


Protocol 2-31

by Hazel_Inle



Series: Internal Domestic Affairs of the First Order [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings develop, Force Choking, Friends to Lovers, Hux is an asshole, Kylo Ren has an obsession, Kylo Ren is an ass, M/M, Mentions of Darth Vader - Freeform, Mentions of Murder, Misuse of the Force, Mitaka is too good for the First Order, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Sexual Content, Slow Build, headcanons, indifferent to lovers, lake country, minor mentions of choking (Kylo Ren's fault), slight nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 96,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel_Inle/pseuds/Hazel_Inle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Lieutenant, are you aware of Protocol 2-31?” Hux asked. The question evoked a curious expression to cross his officer’s face, before he nodded.</p><p>“Yes, Sir. ‘Any form of unforeseen injury within the workspace that is not specified as a possible hazard upon arrival, can be cause for reparation of the wronged party’s choosing, limited to paid leave, upgraded living space, newly granted luxury privileges, and/or a bonus 10,000 credits.’” He spoke with confidence that his information was correct, though a hint of uncertainty as to why he was being reminded of such an amendment. </p><p>“Correct, Lieutenant,” Hux said, taking his datapad in hand to make notes. “I believe being choked and dragged around by unseen physics based powers honed by Lord Ren fits as an ‘unforeseen injury’ that was not included in your commission contract’s list of possible risks.”</p><p> </p><p>In which Mitaka and Hux go on leave, and old wounds are opened, and new feelings are discovered.<br/>Prompt given and developed with Huxs-Mitaka on tumblr (NightWriterAdventures AO3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

_ Mitaka _

 

It is universally expected by parents of the First Order that a child born  _ must _ be accepted into the military academies of the Outer Rim Territory upon certain age. Any child unable to do so was unheard of and was cause of disgrace to the whole family. Even that child’s own children, if any were to be had. The family name may as well stop right there, for who would ever take such a failure into matrimony or wish to breed their dishonorable blood? Spare the other families such filth, was the opinion of many. To some degree, admission into the Cadet Training Programs was almost a rite of passage from child to adult, not the age count or when one breaches puberty. And as such, the child  _ must _ be eager to obtain such honor for themselves, as well as their family. 

These ideals acknowledged, Dopheld found himself rather less than excited by the truth that was embedded even within his own excellent parents. 

“Show at least a little bit of enthusiasm!” he was told constantly, the wind chimes of laughter in his mother’s voice, and a deep threatening thunderstorm that was in his father’s.

Dopheld could not fake such a thing outwardly, much less inwardly. There was no question based on his skills and family name that he would be accepted. In fact, the little invitations to the celebratory dinner party that his parents planned were ordered before the actual acceptance notification came. He would pontificate that they in fact held more than enough enthusiasm towards his education to cover his own apathetic reaction. Upon reading the letter of acceptance, he merely passed it on to his parents and escaped to his room of peace and silence to celebrate on his own, the privacy something he surely would be stripped of once he was at Arkanis. Privacy was not taken for granted in Dopheld’s world, and thus he wished to guard and cherish such a luxury while it was still to be exploited. 

He preferred the calm and quiet of a simple but peaceful room, rather than the loud and high strung couple that was his parents. His preferences were a place to rest, a private space to work, and a bathroom for hygiene; small comforts. Like many families in the Outer Rim, his was poor and likely to remain so until the Republic fell. It was up to the sons and daughters to reach betterment outside of the lower classes and rise in the regime. Dopheld found it tiring that he should _want_ _more_ than what he was used to. He was _content_ with his thin towels in the bathroom and coarse sheets in his bed. Expensive things? Those were for the wealthy. He never had such things, so what was he missing? Nothing he was aware of. But apparently, his parents were more than educated in such things.

“The Pffasking Republic with their speeders and their high towered apartments and golden cutlery…” his father would curse, before going off on a rant about the normal propaganda that the First Order fed the starving people of Imperial past.

Dopheld didn’t care for the raging speeches of old men, and the sob stories of widowed women. He just wanted everyone to get along. He wanted  _ calm  _ and  _ quiet  _ peace _ , _ where no one would have a reason to be jealous of another, or wish for more. That was just a dream of course. It was people’s nature to be envious of each other. 

Regardless.

When his time to leave came, Dopheld garnered a little, but not many tears or sentiments towards his parents. He was not leaving  _ forever. _ Once he was done with his training and schooling, there would be several weeks to be emotional before being deployed somewhere or another for several years. His mother cried for him. His father was more realistic and merely shook his hand with a friendly pat on the shoulder, announcing his pride for his only son, right as he stepped onto the shuttle. 

Yes, he was the only son. And the youngest. Though it was often denied by both parental parties, Dopheld knew because he was a boy, he was the last. His four older sisters were born under the pretense that a son would carry on the legacy and family name. However, they were treated the same as he was, no doubt. But it was no mystery that Dopheld was placed with more responsibility than the youngest sibling normally would be saddled with. His sisters were more than happy to let him take the helm of the family name. 

He loved each one, though they were far more social than he. He preferred to be alone and able to do what he needed and wanted to do without interruption. While they ran off to parties and were courted by uniformed officers fresh from the academy, Dopheld stayed at home and studied. They would invite him to small gatherings, mindful how he disliked large parties and crowds, and urged him to get out and “experience the people from everywhere”. He declined each offer politely, requesting a highlighted story for when they returned, which they eagerly gave at the first chance. Each would retell how one was asked to dance by such and such and how another was expecting an offer to their father within the next month. Dopheld knew it was all in good fun for them, and relented to this kind of talk, but only after parties. On other occasions, they would trade various political and social issues of a moral standing, and each had quite a lot to say, even Dopheld. They were not mindless to what he could and could not handle, and were more than generous in topics of conversation other than what their father called “women talk”. 

Dopheld would scoff and call him stereotypical, when a thought would pass through him. Yes, his family perhaps  _ was  _ stereotypical, but it was also happy. His parents loved each other, as emotional as his mother was, as strict his father could be. His sisters, as sociable and flirtatious as they were in front of men, were actually very deeply aware of their situation in life, and were mature in many ways. They being older, and having the disadvantage of being considered as the gender in which is preyed on, Dopheld worried for them. 

However, his worries were soon put to rest as each found a suitable husband and moved away. Women of the First Order were not subjected to the accepted requirement of academy life, but it was recommended if a girl was not married by twenty. One by one, they disappeared from his life, until the last, who waited until he was accepted by the academy before she moved away. He knew that was a gesture for himself, though she denied it ardently, with a wink to accompany it. Saying goodbye to his sisters evoked more of an emotional response from him than what he gave his parents, as they would not be there to see his return.

The journey to the academy was predictably strewn with nerves and partial worry of the unknown immediate future. However, Arkanis was so near to his own home world, that the trip was thankfully short, and his oppressive feelings and himself were put out of misery. Seeing so many other fifteen-year-old boys nervously looking around in apprehension and partially in wonder, put Dopheld at ease. No one could claim bravery with fear in their eyes.

The first years were full of theoretical military strategy, and the basic keys to leadership. Dopheld thrived though this familiar territory of book knowledge and critical thinking. That was short lived, for boot camp (which was only three hours a week previously) turned into a full time curriculum by the fourth year. This only fueled his determination.

People regarded him as the best in lecture, but he was average in the field. It wasn’t that he disliked the notion of not being on top, but rather he felt he could do better. It was for his own satisfaction that he worked as hard as he did.

At first, he was thankful to just keep up. By the end, he was outrunning, out-climbing, and even out-fighting anyone in his class. He was proud of this, but still remained meek and shy. In fact, he mostly kept to himself with the exception of his study group and occasional gym buddy. He was not close with any of them, but he didn’t mind. He was more content with being by himself. He liked his own company, though that is not to say he  _ couldn’t _ socialize. He was very well versed in what is expected from boys at the teenage age, and how to fit in was even easier. 

He also was fully aware of the normalcy that was sexual exploration. He knew that it was only natural for boys to start exploring themselves and one another. He himself had done so. He already had "the talk" with his father. He and the other boys had explored their own bodies back at home before they did so here. Now that they were closed behind the walls of the academy with nothing but each other and raging hormones, it didn't take much to figure out that someone else's hand felt better than one’s own. 

Dopheld didn't just know about these encounters. He  _ initiated _ a few of them. The first time was awkward, both boys trying to figure out the new angle of the hand on someone else, and how to jerk off without feeling anything at all except what the other was doing to him. Dopheld never quite got past how shy he was in front, as well as behind closed doors. Other boys would be more insistent of what they wanted and would demand things. He asked permission and timidly began. However, once sensations started, he became bolder and braver.  He became known as "goody two shoes" because he was considered as more than just polite. His attitude was a far cry from what was expected of any cadet in the academy. 

He was courteous, kind, and shy to everyone. People believed that only ruthless killers were capable of obtaining best in class, but Dopheld surpassed that belief. He obtained marks that were comparable to a man named Hux, a legacy name that belonged to the graduating Valedictorian of the year before he arrived. That man was supposedly now in the field, in charge of some ship or another. He, unlike Dopheld, actually killed in the academy. 

Dopheld did occasionally hear of someone dying from injury or disease, but an actual murder? No, surely that was merely rumor. It was pointless to kill a peer simply because he didn't like him. But that was besides the point. Dopheld gained the respect and honor that he worked hard to achieve, and by the time the weekly Leadership Battle Simulations started for his year, the men didn’t hesitate to follow his command to victory. People talked words of "general" and "prodigy" when Dopheld was concerned. However, that was not to be. 

Just as life began to pick up to greater things for a nineteen-year-old Dopheld, disaster decided to show its face to remind him that he lived in reality. He was given a notification from the academy that his parents had been killed. They were off world and caught in the crossfire of a resistance posse and a Star Destroyer. Their ship was destroyed by an X-Wing that was on a crash course, killing not only the pilot of the opposing side, but also everyone on board. His parents were just a couple that were at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

By this time, Dopheld had been trained to give absolutely no outward emotion, and was not permitted to leave the academy. His mourning was forced to be entirely inward. He tried even harder, fueling his work with rage, sadness, and confusion. 

Questions drove into his mind like a nail and hammer, each beating causing a new one to rise to the surface. 

_ Why his parents? _

_ What did they ever do to deserve this? _

_ Why was he spared?  _

_ Why wasn't the school attacked instead? _

It made more sense to do so. To attack the young was more logical, for they were the next generation of officers and troops. Eliminate the future, and the Order would be finished. He supposed he should be thankful he was alive, as well as his sisters, but the regret and sorrow of all that he didn't do and all that he could've done, planted a bitter seed within himself, his anger never towards the X-wing that killed them. The Resistance pilot died along with them. That was the killer’s punishment. 

These thoughts and queries destroyed his sleep pattern, and made the moments in which he was to relax, absolute agony. He regretted every moment he wanted to be left alone, rather than cooking with his mother more, or discuss imperial politics with his father. Why was he such a fool? He could've done so much with them, and all they ever wanted was for him to talk with them, to be with them. And how did he repay them? By saying "I want to be alone". 

In moments of the pure darkness of the night, with hundreds of souls asleep in their dreams of conquest and sex, Dopheld wanted to die. The silence he craved when he was younger became a vice; a sword in his chest. Sometimes, when the pain of loss became so intense that he had to leave his bed and sneak into an empty refresher to let his emotions free, he would feel a hand on his back. Sometimes it was thin and feminine, carefully caressing his shoulders and spine in a comforting motion. Other times it was a calloused, square fingered thing that squeezed at his clavicle and lower neck lovingly, almost prideful. Dopheld knew those two hands, and resulted in the agony of losing the owners all the more real. They coaxed his feelings to the surface, breaking the Academy’s tradition of stoic and unfeeling soldiers. He supposed that perhaps because of those visitations of “the ghosts,” he became too emotionally compromised to be called “General”. And so, the Valedictorian of Arkanis Academy was never to be more than Lieutenant. 

This was not any real cause of contempt within himself. Rather, he was almost  _ relieved _ . Being general sounded like the epitome of stress, and called for leadership even when everything seemed so hopeless. That was something Dopheld knew he could not be, and was thankful that the others could see that now. Was he teased and jeered for the sudden desertion of favor? Of course. Did it bother him? Absolutely not. These were the same boys who constantly looked to him in battle simulations, even when he was not the commanding officer.

The Academy graduation was pompous, and a megalomaniac’s playground. Officers from the Imperial Age, rich men who supported the Imperial Fleet, old families of legacy; each puffed out their chest in competition on who’s offspring was the greatest, bragging and selling their children as if all their exploits were their own. Some found it embarrassing. Others, (in a strange mostly overall consensus) said it to be the most attention and love their parents had ever graced them with. Dopheld was not surprised by this new bit of information, as a great many of the boys acted like attention deprived five year olds: throwing tantrums, fighting over the most trivial of matters, disappearing for hours on end, and purposely becoming difficult for other people.

Dopheld didn’t feel that was becoming of a future officer, but who was he to judge? His emotional nature and the resulting compromised actions did not attribute him to become more. At graduation, it dawned on him that he had failed. The point of going to the academy was his chance to break outside of his social and economic class. Being a lieutenant would ensure his stationary situation for the rest of his life. His sisters had all married higher men. They were the ones who brought up the family. While he was proud of them, he was ashamed of what he was. 

Upon his return to the empty house in his name, the word “nostalgic” came to mind. It forced its way to the surface with the delicacy of a speeder crash, and made him fall to his knees in the common area, as visions of ghost people wandered about and did as was normal to their nature. 

His father, sitting in an armchair comfortably with a cigar in his lips, reading or watching the news to keep with the times, occasionally making a comment about this or that. His mother, either knitting on the couch beside him or in the kitchen cooking or baking in the next room, proposed commentary to bounce off his father’s original words, the playful banter of reason versus emotion, depending on personality, floating though the house as white noise. He could see the ardency of his father’s words, but the one cornered grin of his face told the story of how he fell for the sentiments of his wife over and over again, his mother’s gentle caress on her spouse’s shoulder in an acknowledgement of his opinions and her respect for them, though still disagreeing in favor of her heart. Their relationship was one of unadulterated equality of every aspect, an example of love and respect that Dopheld felt unworthy to witness.

Nostalgia…though a simple four syllabled word it may be, it held a meaning that was more than just reminiscence; the literal basis of the word from its roots is “return home” and “pain”. He was within both, and the mere return to a place he believed to be waiting for him with all the same comforts of people and things of the past was enough. He felt a deep sickening anguish settle within him and found the ability to let go of everything. His parents were gone. No matter where he went or however much he searched for them, they would never be there. They were a now ash floating in space. Not even to be commemorated with the evidence of bodies. But perhaps it was better. If there had been, and if he had been granted permission to attend the funeral, he might have gone insane at the sight.

His eldest sister arrived at the house a day after he returned, and found him lying on the floor of the den, surrounded by the keepsakes and reminders of their caretakers, with the holo-channel turned to the news. She said nothing about the state he was in, and merely sat with him, allowing him to mourn in his own way. She had solace within her husband and friends on their planet, but she knew he would have none at the Academy. A quick call to the other siblings was all it took for a reunion to take place at the old home, and Dopheld regained his feet. A new type of conversation was shared amongst siblings; one of reminiscence, and making goals for the future.

Going ahead in life meant being commissioned. That required a good word from the administration, which was cause for unease in Dopheld’s mind. He may have been valedictorian, but he knew that the psychological evaluation may not be taken lightly by anyone. When he voiced his concerns to his sisters, they assured him that there had to be someone not bothered by such things as “loss of parents”. Surely, the commanding officers were not so cruel.

Much to his sisters’ delight, as naïve as they were to the name, he was addressed by _General Armitage Hux,_ Valedictorian of his very own academy seven years prior, of the _Finalizer,_ the flagship of the First Order. Dopheld, as he stood staring at the message cordially written and probably mass produced to every officer inquired for commission, merely had to take a seat to collect himself. 

The preparations to leave were swift, and all too soon, goodbyes were to be said once more. This time, he didn’t hold back on farewells, remembering his mistake on treating them with casualty. If his siblings noticed or knew this, they made no comment, merely wishing him well and assuring him with deep knowing eyes that they  _ will _ see each other again.

A new kind of nostalgia came over him once he was flying to the  _ Finalizer _ on the shuttle, though perhaps it was magnified, due to the importance of the trip. 

“Relax, Kid.” Came a voice next to his seat. The man in question looked to be about five years his senior, and was hardly in any state of distress. In fact, he seemed  _ bored _ . Comparable to Dopheld’s sweaty hands and nervously jumping knee, he was cool and collected. 

“I apologize…” Dopheld responded, his gaze turning to the offending appendage that he willed to still. 

“Let me guess. Green, right?”

“I…excuse me?”

“Just graduated?”

“Yes sir.” 

The stranger hummed in self congratulation of his correct observation. Any sort of conversation that Dopheld would have normally started died on his lips as he saw the degrading thoughts run across the man’s features, and knew he should remain silent. He had a strange feeling that this cycle was to continue for a good long while, and resigned to get accustomed to it. 

Arrival was smooth, and unlike the others that were “green”, Dopheld kept his gaze forward and did not look at the map he was given and all around at the new sights. He had studied the guide to memorization, and thus, his route to his room was easily found. Seeing as how the schedule was tight, and he was due to begin his duties as weapons manager on the bridge in but a mere hour, Dopheld resigned to quickly shower and dress, keeping absolute order in his appearance. To add insurance of keeping within protocol, he shaved twice. 

The walk from his quarters to the bridge was a short one, and he was thankful for such a thing. It gave him less time to consider all that could go wrong, and perhaps ruin every effort and expectation he upheld for himself as a person as well as an officer. When he reported to his supervising officer, he was told primly to report to General Hux, whom was in his office. He saluted and went on his way, his throat closing in nervous agitation. 

Hux. The name itself was an endowment of power. The title of general only made the image even more terrifying. Given the reputation of rising power within a matter of years, the youngest of generals in the  _ combined  _ history of the First Order and the Empire, added onto the fact that he killed several peers in the academy, Dopheld felt he was more than entitled to be scared. He hoped that after meeting the man, he would feel better about having General Hux as a “boss”.

The office was neat and minimalistic, but it was very much lived in. Nothing was personal about the décor, and while Dopheld didn’t usually care for interior design, he felt very,  _ very _ small in the room with the center of attention sitting behind the desk. 

The first thing that stuck out to Dopheld about the general was his hair. True, it was neat, and within length regulation. But that was secondary to the fact that it was  _ bright red. _ The splash of color almost slapped Dopheld’s eyes in the world of grey and black that he entered. Furthermore, red hair was  _ rare. _ Sometimes it came in highlights, but never such a magnificent head full of it. 

Next came his eyes, a startling turquoise that he had never seen before. Nowhere in nature did Dopheld ever find the equal, and thought it impossible to even exist. They reminded him of thunderstorms and a chaotic kind of order that  _ dared _ the galaxy to throw it’s worst. They were confident, commanding, and  _ calm _ . He had all the authority, knew it, and  _ thrived _ in it.

His back straightened as he saluted, tearing his eyes away from the general’s in an attempt to seem less disrespectful, mentally avoiding the fact he had stared at General Hux for longer than what was polite.

“Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka reporting, Sir.” He said with the barest of wavering at the end, his fears of embarrassment resurfacing. The stern persona regarded him in silence for a second before nodding in what seemed to be acceptance. 

“At ease, Lieutenant.” His crisp, accented voice said, no louder than was required. Dopheld went to parade rest at the allowance. He watched with apt attention as the general picked up a datapad and looked over what seemed to be his file. Dopheld didn’t think this would be an interview, and thanked the stars that he thought to prepare before coming in.

“Valedictorian?” the new tone was almost conversational, and there was a glimmer in his eyes of almost recognition, like he was seeing a small similarity between them. Dopheld didn’t allow himself to think that the general was doing anything more than starting a conversation where there was common ground. “That will serve you well, Lieutenant.” 

“Thank you, Sir.” Responding was easier now. There was a moment of silence between the strangers as the older person read over the main points on his file.

“When you were recommended to me, were you aware of any liabilities that Administration would convey to me?” he asked, those eyes now studying Dopheld’s reaction to the question. He felt himself sweat under his jacket, but resolved to remain collected.

“My psychological analysis of my fourth year reports my emotionally compromised state after an event on the home front, Sir.”

“Correct. At least you are not foolish to think they would not mention it. That sort of occurrence is disastrous in a leadership role.”

The words took at bite at Dopheld, and he wasn’t sure why. They were not cruel, and were not insinuating that he was a failure, but they had an undertone. It was as if he was warning him that he understood the severity of the problem, and would not take it lightly should Dopheld fall into a similar cycle.

“Regardless…” Hux began again.

This caught the lieutenant’s attention from his thoughts, and a spark of hope ignited.

“That was over two years ago.” Hux stated, tapping his fingers on the desk in thought. “I should like to believe a man can surpass such things.”

“Of course, Sir.” 

“I expect as such from yourself, as well as all of my officers.” With that, the general closed out of Dopheld’s file on the datapad and handed the device to him.

“Report to your console. Everything you need, such as schedules, data-points, holo-channels, and shift control is on this datapad. If you have any questions, report to your supervising officer.”

“Yes sir.”

“Dismissed, Lieutenant Mitaka.”

Dopheld saluted to the general and left the room, his heart pounding in his chest. The wave of nausea that enveloped him as he exited took him aback. It was that awkward, sickening relief that the General was not a monster. That the General was…well, perhaps forgiving was a generous term. Reasonable was better. Borderline understanding.

Upon sitting at his station, a thought crossed his consciousness; no one in this world used their first name. It was always the surname. Normally, it would be cause for certain discomfort, for the loss of a first name was the result of no longer becoming an individual. Now, the focus was rank and the family name. People would be upset over losing an identity that they have upheld their entire life, but not Dopheld. He saw that as the  _ true _ passing from child to adult. The academy was not his rite of passage.  _ This  _ was. 

Dopheld was the scared boy who cried in regret of what could’ve been. 

Mitaka was a lieutenant who made his pain a source of strength to move through the future. 

 

* * *

_ Hux _

 

Monochrome. That was his entire life. Perhaps a splash of a lighter, supple grey, partially saturated with blue from the barely escaping sky from the cage of clouds over Arkanis, his home world. Or maybe a darker shade that rivaled the night, slashing the palette with the deep-red liquid life. It was grey with everything and everyone. Yes, he saw physical color, but it was still de-saturated. Whether or not it was because of some optical disease or because of his skewed perception, he resigned to not let such trivial things be the center of his world. 

Grey was controlling, neutral, and unchanging; the same things he trained himself to become. This training  _ officially _ started once he was placed in the academy in which his father founded, but if there was brutal honesty involved, General Hux would have to say that it began right within his cradle. Even then he was surrounded by a colorless world, trapped with a man who had very specific ideals upon how his son was to live his life.

A legacy can be an honor, an irrefutable standard to demand respect and esteem to those involved. It could be a sign of nobility only given under birthright, with absolute power as a side dish. 

This was how a legacy was  _ supposed _ to be, according to the masses. Hux knew better in all regards of the matter. 

The standard of respect and esteem was not for the people surrounding the person of the name; it was for the man  _ himself.  _ At all times, Armitage was given strict instruction to his behavior, from not only his power hungry father, but also fashionable mother. Sit still, be silent, greet guests with a bow or kiss of the hand, salute a high rank officer, stand straight, and a million other quips. It soon became all he ever knew; a vicious cycle of military events and extravagant parties of social pettiness. 

The parties were not the only thing that deserved the title of “petty”. Friends too were petty. He was not scorning the idea of companionship, but rather knew the true nature of his so called “friends”. His name was a bearing of power to others, and as a result, attracted hungry jackals who wanted nothing more than to rub shoulders with it in hopes that some might come off on them. Truthfully, Hux was revolted by anyone who tried to be close to him, as of people’s intentions are never hard to discover when they are written in the eyes. Or perhaps he was just good at reading people at a glance. 

Well… _ most _ people. 

There have been a few in his life that genuinely threw him off, and required more knowledge to crack. 

One such person was a boy in his class. He was a timid person, one that never spoke unless spoken to. He kept to himself, remained out of everyone’s way, and even avoided contact with other people. Armitage was intrigued how this young boy, whom he thought would be sent away within a month at best, made it all the way to Command Simulations. Determined to not become rattled by this inconsistency of a boy, he sought him out every chance he could get him alone. 

After much coaxing, bribing, and even a couple minor sexual liaisons, he discovered the source of his timid nature. He was a peace lover, and was hardly anyone suited for war or conquest. He was the type of person who would much rather avoid conflict than face it. He ran, he hid, he bargained, he persuaded, doing anything he could to get away from any possible violence that the others in his class so commonly enjoyed. 

One mention of the boy in passing to his father was all it took for the Commandant to demand his death. The accusation of the boy being weak was not a new statement; it was proclaimed daily by the other cadets behind the victim’s back as well as to his face. When Brendol declared the penalty of such weakness as  _ pacifism _ , Armitage was taken aback. However, he was not surprised by the stressing of the ending of life so much as he was shocked that the Commandant wanted  _ him  _ to be the one to do it. 

“Such a flaw as this will poison the strong. Bad blood indeed…” Brendol snarled over his two fingers of brandy. “State your dominance, boy. Snuff out the weak.” 

Armitage merely nodded and knew his father’s word to be law.  _ Absolute  _ law. The boy’s fate was sealed, and Armitage was the executioner. The sentence was carried out swiftly. 

The second person to cause Armitage to falter was another boy who was the exact opposite to the pacifist. He was bold, foolhardy, and exceptionally confident. At first, he believed it was arrogance and a dash of egotism, but that was stomped by the constant display of care for his peers before, during, and after the simulations. He was open with everyone, regardless of personality or identity. That included interaction Armitage himself. 

However, there was a difference in the way he treated Armitage. He was softer, and perhaps a little more lavishing in his praise and teasing, though Armitage would openly scrunch his nose in distaste at the display of strange behavior. Even worse, the flirt would laugh at the reaction and then try to ruffle his bright red hair, which earned him a sharp swipe that always resulted in a bruise. The flirt wasn’t deterred. 

At first, Armitage believed him to be an attention deprived child. Then he thought he was a puppy that was infatuated with him. But the truth was revealed in the quiet hours after they had stolen a moment away from prying eyes and lay post coital in a deserted training room.

The flirt actually  _ pitied _ him for his inability to break from paternal oppression, and believed Armitage was someone to be  _ saved _ from the treacherous responsibility that was his surname _. _

No sooner were these words uttered, then did Armitage’s pride slash at his defenseless lover, and resulted in a massacred cadaver to be discovered the next morning by some new, first-year cadets. 

The third was more disturbing that the others, and far more random. In fact, Armitage gave him no mind at all at first. He was a boy of no consequence. Perhaps well rounded in code and technical engineering, but otherwise he had no hope in excelling in the field. 

The first time he called him “bastard,” Armitage gave him a swipe, though it was merely to remind him who was more powerful instead to actually hurt. The second and third time he said it made him pause. There was a look about his face that made Armitage uneasy inside, as though he knew something he did not. That was what spurred him to take initiative.

The next time it was uttered, Armitage dragged the boy out of bed in the dead of night and silently took him to a console room. He had planned to torture him to obtain the reasoning, but the boy had surprised him by being more than willing to tell him. In fact, he  _ sneered _ at the sight of the knife at his neck. 

He gestured to the consoles that he was pressed against and told him he had found the personal files written about his father and found a very interesting one Armitage’s name. He laughed with glee when he revealed that on it was his birth record, and the word “illegitimate” that was upon it.

“The empire recorded  _ everything _ …I wonder how many people your father fucked to have his shame covered up…” he cackled, relishing in Armitage’s pained and confused face. “Looks like he didn’t do a very good job if a mere cadet can find something with just a few hack commands!”

Armitage put the knife to use, though this time to a different intention than torture. His new goal was to silence this before anyone believed this vicious lie. The blood bubbled forth from his neck and painted the consoles the cadet excelled at. Armitage left feeling numb.

At first, he denied this fact with excellence, refusing to allow such a rumor to taint his reputation he had built for himself. People didn’t look at him as if he were a bastard, even his instructors. However, he  _ did _ start noticing something off about them. They never praised him to his face as they did with the others; only to each other and when they thought no one was around. 

This was when doubt began to creep through his body. It was as if they were commanded to treat him differently, and it was a good possibility that it was so. The only person who had that power and would do such a thing, was his father. It was as though everyone just expected more than just for him to be the next Brendol Hux. It was as though he had more to prove. 

After Graduation was the opportunity to address this to his father in the privacy of his Arkanis home that he rarely ever stepped into. At the accusation, Brendol smirked. 

“So you finally figured it out?” he jeered. “I would’ve thought you found out on your own, rather than some meaningless idiot who knew code.” 

“Regardless of how I found out,” Armitage snarled. “Is that why you always denied me everything a child should have? Is that why you were so heartless to your own  _ son _ ?”

“Sentiment is for the  _ weak,  _ boy,” was the sharp reply. “I once called you useless, and I  _ almost _ believed you above that. Now I see that nothing has changed if you prefer such things as. You are  _ pathetic  _ to wish for such singular things _. _ ”

He saw red, and the rage that burst forth from him made him the last male Hux left in the galaxy. He walked away from the house, the planet, the life with no remorse. He would never gaze back on those days in embarrassment, nor feel any sort of obligation for the sake of his shame or his father’s approval. Neither were important. They both were dead, and Armitage decided to do all he ever did for his own sake. No one else’s. 

He had been selfless for his father’s wishes. Never again. Not for him, not for anyone. Himself only. It was time to be selfish.

The fourth and final person to cause this unsureness of personality, was Kylo Ren.

The supposed powerful force user under the direct orders and teachings of the Supreme Leader. While the now General Hux regarded the Supreme Leader with overall respect of an equal, he did question his reasons to send his apprentice to his flagship. 

His first impression based off verbal description was that he was of a strategic mind with a power that Hux didn’t understand to aid him. Such powers that were shared with the Supreme Leader at such easy access surely could mean that progress would be achieved at a faster rate. Perhaps the powers gave wisdom to the holder, and they could make decisions using this support. Yes, Hux would still be in charge, but if it was with a capable adult with an advantage of great fortune, be would mind working in tandem with another, if only partially. However, upon meeting, this was squashed in an instant. 

Kylo Ren was a  _ child _ . The very  _ essence _ of the word. 

He threw tantrums that cost thousands of credits in equipment thanks to the half broken laser sword he swings around, all because something doesn’t go his way. He bickered with Hux at every comment and command made, even if it was about the _temperature_ _of the room_. He disappeared for hours at a time, reportedly moping in his room over stars knows what. He stomped around with a gait that rivaled a bully on a playground, warning everyone to _get out of his way_ lest they be pounded, including General Hux (whom merely raised an eyebrow and ignored the man-child instead, much to the Knight’s frustration). He made commands for his own personal interests that often contradicted what was best for the First Order’s mission, resulting in confusion and fumbling in Hux’s officers and subordinates over which orders to follow. 

If these actions were not enough, his so called powers were not something to be awed. Rather, they were to be scorned and treated with exasperation. 

If you were Hux, that is. 

_Yes, yes, Ren, you can make objects float and read people’s thoughts that you have no business getting into._ _So far the only use you have on my ship is interrogation, since your strategic planning ability is no better than a cheese sandwich’s capacity to_ think. 

If you were a certain weapons manager on the bridge, however, that power was something to be hyper-aware of, and to be  _ feared. _

Hux swore upon the stars that Kylo Ren took it as sport to target the Lieutenant, even if he had absolutely nothing to do with the issue at hand. The first time he had given the daily report to the General after such an attack, he had very visible bruises upon his barely exposed neck, and spoke with a small voice, strained from what was obviously a choking. 

Hux at first believed it was roughhousing amongst his men and admonished his officer before demanding to know why there was such activity on the bridge of his flagship. The Lieutenant looked away in what seemed to be shame, but then there was an apology for not his supposed actions, but for  _ correcting _ his General.

“It was not a fellow officer, sir…I hesitate to speak ill of my superiors, but Lord Ren was…  _ displeased _ with the contents of my verbal report on the whereabouts of the Resistance transports.”

That was all it took for Hux to storm out of the room and track down the force user in a rage. The argument that followed between the two stubborn men of power was gossiped about for weeks afterwards. Low blows were snarled, and threats were thrown with vengeance. People whispered about how they not only verbally abused each other, but also their ancestry. Even after all this, Hux’s attempt to beat Kylo Ren into submission under his orders to refrain from abuse towards his men was met with a dead end. Within a few days, the same lieutenant came into his office with a fresh set of bruises and an even quieter voice than before. 

Hux decided enough was enough.

Instead of striking at the immediate cause as he had originally done, he sought the person who held the leash to the beast that was his Co-Commander. The Supreme Leader, however, was not perturbed by his apprentice’s lack of integrity, and refused to hear a word of Hux’s reasoning for demands or removal. 

And thus, he was stuck with him for who knows how long. And unlike the last man to damage his pride, he couldn’t  _ kill _ him.

His frustration in the first month leaked out from the sharp represses of his mind and subconsciously into his actions. He was harsher in his tone of command, and bitterly took failure as a personal hit. His praise was few and far between, and soon was something to be cherished as a medal of honor to his men. 

After accidentally finding one of his captains in the lounge drowning whisky like water and crying drunkenly to a friend about Hux’s unnecessarily harsh reprimand on a small grammatical mistake in his report, it was a fierce reminder that his actions were just as out of line as Kylo Ren’s were, and immediately sought to set things right with his command center. 

He gifted small bonuses to the few who barely received any unintentional wrath of his. Others were granted privileges not previously had (better living space and access luxury items). The one whom he caused an anxiety drunken stupor was granted a three-day leave to see his wife and two children. He modeled the reward based off Protocol 2-31, even though no one was physically hurt by him. 

At first he believed all was well once more, until that lieutenant came into his office once more with his report, small voice punctuated with fresh bruises. He was also red faced, which made Hux believe it was recent, most likely not even ten minutes before he walked into his office.

“Lieutenant Mitaka.” He now knew that name by heart, no aid needed anymore. The man across the desk straightened instinctually at the sound of the sudden address. “Am I correct to assume those are from Lord Ren?” He pointed his finger towards the angry purple marks that wrapped around the young man’s short neck.

“Yes, Sir.” He responded. There was a silence between them, which allowed Hux to realize something about him; in all the times this man had come to report what was due, he never mentioned nor complained about his treatment from the irate Co-Commander, and accepted it with such grace and poise. When it was addressed, Hux was the one to bring the subject up, not Lieutenant Mitaka.

“Lieutenant, are you aware of Protocol 2-31?” Hux asked. The question evoked a curious expression to cross his officer’s face, before he nodded.

“Yes, Sir. ‘Any form of unforeseen injury within the workspace that is not specified as a possible hazard upon arrival, can be cause for reparation of the wronged party’s choosing, limited to paid leave, upgraded living space, newly granted luxury privileges, and/or a bonus 10,000 credits.’” He spoke with confidence that his information was correct, though a hint of uncertainty as to why he was being reminded of such an amendment. 

“Correct, Lieutenant,” Hux said, taking his datapad in hand to make notes. “I believe being choked and dragged around by unseen physics based powers honed by Lord Ren fits as an ‘unforeseen injury’ that was not included in your commission contract’s list of possible risks.”

He began writing a report on the smooth surfaced datapad in preparation to any demands that the Lieutenant could make. His fingers flew over the touchscreen keyboard with practiced dexterity and accuracy, so when it came time to assign the Lieutenant’s demands as an official ruling, he was strangely waiting in the man’s lack of response. He allowed his eyes to look up at Lieutenant Mitaka questioningly, anticipating anything from a month long paid vacation on a tropical planet, to an entire bar worth of hundred-year-old Corellian brandy.

Instead he he was met with silence. At first, he believed the younger man was considering his options, but was stunned by what his request was when he finally said it.

“Nothing, sir.”

Hux put the datapad down on his console slowly, unable to hide his surprise. 

“ _ Nothing _ ?”

“Nothing, sir. I do not require any reparations.”

"Nothing at all, Lieutenant?" He asked again, turning his head to the side partially as if to try and see the man better from a different angle. 

"No, Sir." He repeated, his voice patient and assuring. 

"Not a leave to see your family?" Hux asked. He was asking out of  _ protocol reasoning _ . If he did not offer this to his officers as he had done to the others, then he was being unfair. He was not questioning this man because he was  _ curious _ about him. 

The man named Mitaka gave a small fond smile as if he were thinking of said family. 

"While my sisters would be more than happy to see me after a year on commission, Sir, they are busy with mothering future generation of the First Order. That, and every one of them lives on their husband's home-world, which are far from each other," he explained, forcing his face to return to neutral. 

"Is there anything you desire at all?" Hux questioned, not intrigued by his reasoning and expression. "Perhaps better living quarters or maybe adding more comforts to your current living space?" 

"Sir, I desire nothing at all. I am content with what I have." 

"Everyone desires something." Hux countered. 

"I require nothing, Sir," the Lieutenant reassured. Hux tried a different tactic. This man could not honestly be so selfless and still be the supposed Valedictorian of the academy. Perhaps he was minimalistic by nature. Most people will accept something eventually with encouragement of some sort. 

"Lieutenant, to be honest, what has happened requires reparation. Without it, it would be considered as ill treatment to my officers and staff. So therefore even if you don't want anything, I still have to assign you something of your choosing." Hux tapped his fingers against the console surface, awaiting his answer. 

He seemed to consider his response before speaking. 

"Sir, the claim that this applies at all to Protocol 2-31 is unfortunately irrelevant. This was a foreseen injury in every regard."

This new information made Hux’s eyes narrow, partially flustered by the absurdity of what he was suggesting.

“Explain your reasoning, Lieutenant.” he demanded slowly, though not hostilely. Mitaka nodded primly.

“Sir, I was not the one who originally was to report to Lord Ren,” he revealed. “A fellow crew member was supposed to, but hesitated as of he already seemed in bad spirits from something or another. I relieved her of this task,  _ knowing _ the potential consequences. In a way, over the year in which I have served on the  _ Finalizer _ , I have come to terms with these ‘unforeseen injuries,’ and have included them in my file. So reparation is unnecessary, and Protocol 2-31 is non-applicable.” 

Hux let his eyes wander over the Lieutenant’s form, taking in every inch of him as he spoke. His body language was of absolute obedience, but the face and eyes held and undoubtable spark of creative intelligence. He was stubborn in his placement, but not aggressively so. In fact, Lieutenant Mitaka was the sort who never spoke above what was necessary in the entirety of his short career. 

And his mind! It was obviously sharper than what Hux originally believed. There was an unexpected form of natural intellect and critical thinking. His evasion of Protocol 2-31 with such an argument was amendable and very well rounded. In fact, it saved Hux resources and paperwork.

But the intent…what was it? Most people who are offered reparations take them at the first chance, even if they are not earned or given accidentally. Why not take advantage of the opportunity?

“You bring a valid point, Lieutenant. However, the fact remains that the previous occasions of injury were not under these same circumstances. So technically this can be applied to the others.”

“Yes, Sir. But technically, if 2-31 was executed as written, it would be practiced upon every time I am hurt, which has happened multiple occasions over the course of just two months. In addition, there is no suggestion that these events will cease anytime soon, so that would waste valuable time, resources, and/or credits if I so wished for them.”

Hux couldn’t believe this man. Just what was he playing?

They once more stood in silence, though Mitaka shifted his weight from foot to foot ever so slightly in an obvious nervous tick. Hux, however, regarded him once more before deciding to ask straight what was on his mind.

“Why not?”

Mitaka looked up in confusion.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“Why don’t you want anything?”

Lieutenant Mitaka paused to think.

“Sir, permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

“I am satisfied with what I have,” he began, looking down at his shoes. “When I was younger, before the academy, I had the equivalent to what is given to me here. I am used to this kind of living, and I prefer it. Paid leave is not something I prefer. While I love my family, I value my work and worry over replacements while I am away.” 

At this point, he began showing signs of anxiety; a twitch in the brow, biting of the lip, and partial fiddling of fingers. 

“As for the situation with Lord Ren…Well, while I do not wish to speak ill of him, I cannot lie that know he prefers myself as a target since I wont fight back or struggle, or complain. Because of this preference, why should anyone else have to be subjected to his anger? I-”

“Lieutenant, you need not be a martyr for the sake of others, just because he favors you as his punching bag,” Hux stated sharply, though taken aback by his own abrasive response to this mentality. This man was more and more of a conundrum than he believed. What would he gain from doing all this? 

“I apologize, Sir,” he consented meekly, his cheeks partially turning pink from embarrassment. 

Pink. Color. A strange thing indeed in this world of grey. He shook his head to stay in focus, believing himself distracted by the lack of proper sleep these past weeks.

“Let us compromise, Lieutenant, since you are ardent in your denial, and I am not satisfied with it,” Hux offered. “If this treatment becomes too much, I will allow a paid leave for the sake of recuperation of the mind at a moment’s notice. While your integrity and work ethic is greatly appreciated, that may change with constant abuse. And the replacements are more than capable, though they do not compare to your daily work ethic.”

“I accept, Sir,” Mitaka allowed a small smile under the praise and his gaze returned to his Commander. “And perhaps you yourself may indulge in a short leave yourself?”

Both men’s eyes widened, and the implications behind Mitaka’s words sank in. One man paled, the other flushed pink.

“I-I apologize, General, Sir.” He stuttered out, lip trembling and unconsciously taking a step back in fear of any possible penalty that Hux may serve for the break in professionalism, as well as poking the subject of Hux’s previous lapse in control towards his men, and suggesting he was emotionally compromised. His pale complexion bordered on terror, and it was obvious he was breaching on sickness. 

The General, however, was merely astounded. The man before him was…well, to put it plainly, was a mystery tied on top of a puzzle. Most did this sort of thing to achieve enhancements of some kind. This was done by gaining favor of the General. However, he just explained that he wanted nothing and wouldn’t wish for anything. 

Either he was a brilliant actor and liar, or…just  _ what _ ? He needed time to think on this. 

“I-I did not m-mean to imply that-”

“Calm yourself, Lieutenant.” Hux turned to his datapad and typed a few commands into the channels for pressing messages, pretending to busy himself to cover his tumbling confusion that he could not seem to beat back with a stoic expression. It was as if all training he had endured throughout his life, mastering the mask of indifference, was suddenly forgotten, and he was exposed. 

“I…I was merely feeling concern, Sir,” Mitaka trailed off.

“Noted,” he responded, unable to think of anything else to say.

Concern? That was…

“I do not imagine I would have time for such frivolity,” Hux finally managed out. “Report to me if you feel emotionally compromised by Lord Ren. Dismissed.”

Mitaka was all to eager to leave the room, and retreated at a pace that could be considered as fleeing if he wasn’t  _ walking _ . As soon as he was alone and with the door closed, Hux quickly set out to pick apart this man who didn’t add up in his mind. This was a matter that would take some time to understand.

However, what he didn’t realize was that “taking some time” turned out to be all throughout second and third shift and even in his night cycle. It didn’t even end with his sleep cycle. He just lay awake, remembering the holos he watched over and over their every exchange, especially their first meeting.

Mitaka was just so… _ shy _ . He looked ready to piss himself when he met Hux for the first time, but partially in fear. The other half was in  _ respect _ . Other than Mitaka staring perhaps too long. But that never happened again. Now he only did what was necessary by default and protocol, unless it was Protocol 2-31. What was that about? And what of this so called  _ concern? _

People actually felt that about each other? While he was prone to believe that such things do not exist, it was a fact that Mitaka did indeed show that emotion, at least for his fellow peers. But surely not towards himself, the general. Not truly, anyway. He was probably just like the so called friends that only wanted the power he had; biding time and stroking his emotions for the goods at the end.

But what stopped that thought in its tracks was the memory of the Lieutenant responding with absolute grace and reassuring poise that he indeed wanted nothing at all, and was gratified with his situation in life. 

What if he  _ wasn’t _ lying?

What if he was?

What if he was actually concerned for him because…because…why  _ would  _ he be concerned other than for the sake of his leadership ability and by extension worry for his own wellbeing?

What if he was a perfect puppet master, and made his way though the academy with charm and careful emotional warfare?

What if he was…what if he was being real, with no pretenses? That he was actually concerned and meant every word that he uttered?

Was that even possible in a person?

_ Who are you? _

As he stared up at the ceiling, he began noticing the almost invisible blotches of pinks and purples in the blackness of the window that opened to the galactic expanse of eternity, and the very faint blue tint to the grey walls that surrounded him, something he never noticed before.


	2. II

_Mitaka_

Mitaka normally believed himself a collected individual. He was blessed with a calm demeanor as a part of his countenance, and it had served him well in the years at the Academy. The fierce battle simulations with blood, gore, and the harsh pain from failure to signify that one “died” all struck hard at the wall of defense that Mitaka had naturally, due to his easygoing countenance and overall composure.

Throw Kylo Ren into his life, and suddenly the tables turned.

Mitaka swore on the stars that the force-being was fear in humanoid form. Whoever or _whatever_ he was, Kylo Ren could make anyone shake in terror by just strolling into a room. His very essence screamed terror. Even on the first day of his presence on the _Finalizer_ , his power and ability to make others uneasy was instantly recognized, and every person on the bridge didn’t dare to make any comment on his strange attire and mask, nor his obviously reckless attitude.

Mitaka had a few thoughts as to why this was.

Physically, the man was _huge_. He towered over everyone, and held the widest and broadest pair of shoulders that Mitaka had ever seen. The strength was obvious in those long limbs. And his gait, while heavy and not in any way graceful, was most certainly deadly. When he entered anywhere, people naturally gravitated away from him instantly to avoid any possible throttling.

His powers, while ambiguous in nature, were not to be trifled with. He seemed to alter the aura of a room, making the air a little stifling and uneasy. People were quicker to pick fights and had shorter tempers when he was present. If he indeed was tampering the atmosphere by just _being_ , then the physics that he controlled with (supposedly) his mind, was certainly something to understand as blunt force. Though it was antique in nature (according to the database, which was very limited on such things), it was most definitely to be aware of. Apparently only a select few are able to harness such unnatural power, and it was something that this man shared with the Supreme Leader, himself.

If all this was not enough, it was perhaps the archaic weapon that hung from his right hip that seemed just as volatile and explosive as its owner that made the image complete. This, added onto the fact that he was more than willing to unleash the crackling and spitting blade on anything close to him when given any form of negative news, made the image of Kylo Ren something to truly avoid.

Mitaka, while quietly sitting at his console, was more than willing to look the other direction when Kylo Ren was in the room. However, it seemed that the temperamental being had other plans for the Lieutenant.

The first time he was thrown face first into his console by the invisible hands, he believed it was because he was by the door, and Kylo Ren merely saw him last as he left the room in a huff, wielding his sabre as he went. The time after that, he was ready and braced his arms against the console and managed to fight the pressure, if only for an instant. His face still collided with the touchscreen surface, this time making his nose bleed profusely. Afterwards, it became a strange pattern over the next few weeks, and this was when Mitaka reconsidered why he was targeted.

After speculating him over the time Lord Ren had been on the _Finalizer,_ Mitaka discovered that he was also capable of reading minds, and even prying information from the victim. How he did this was a mystery. But after seeing the victims of his intruding powers, there was no doubt in Mitaka’s judgment that the sudden random headaches, added on with the violently surfacing painful memories and emotions of the past that happened whenever Kylo Ren targeted him physically, was the Knight’s doing as well. Kylo Ren knew everything about him from his first speeder ride with his eldest sister, to when he last showered. This was even more disturbing, and resulted in Mitaka to discover an even more unsettling fact.

Kylo Ren was targeting Mitaka not because of placement, but because of his _personality._ He knew Mitaka wouldn’t ever dare complain, and wouldn’t fight back. He was easy pickings. Lord Ren wasn’t after a reaction; he was after an outlet for his frustrations, and Mitaka was the perfect man for the job.

Naturally, this angered Mitaka, and he spited him for it. However, over the course of time, his aggravation naturally subsided, and his positive, but logical outlook returned. If Kylo Ren was busy harassing him, then that meant less time attacking other members of the First Order. So far, he was the only one who was hurt, and he made sure that it stayed that way.

The others on the bridge praised him for his bravery, too afraid of the Knight to allow their pride to be harmed. Not one of them even attempted to pretend they weren’t happy it was him, rather than them. Mitaka didn’t blame them; he _was_ the one who offered his services, after all. It was easier if one man was injured instead of an entire bridge crew, he reasoned.

However, General Hux did not seem to share that sentiment, throwing Protocol 2-31 like it was law at Mitaka. Yet again, Mitaka did expect that.

In the year in which he had been under the famous general’s orders, he knew him to be a very strict, but fair leader. People may perhaps be scared of him because of his reputation, but the truth of the matter was General Hux was neutral to be around. He was serious in his work, and considerate towards his men. When it came to company, there was a mystery. No one had ever seen him on social grounds, and many believed he detested such things. Mitaka only believed him to be on guard and under rigorous professionalism. He never said more than what was needed, and didn’t stray from protocol either. The man was truly the First Order embodied in a person. Propaganda didn’t need to exaggerate to make him the poster-boy.

Mitaka, while appreciative that his superior officer cared about him (at least for protocol’s sake), didn’t see the need to make a fuss about the entire thing. After his frustration passed, his emotions halted into graceful acceptance, and merely took it as an almost expectation of the day’s events.

_Yes, I suppose there will be another maintenance request for console 3, since it always causes problems with connectivity. Maybe there will be warm soup in the officer’s lounge for between shift meal. Perhaps Kylo Ren will not use his powers this time, and may be content with just his hand around my throat instead. Ooh! Hopefully there’s sugar for the caf this time!_

What Mitaka didn’t bargain for was for the general to ask him _why_ he didn’t want to be given reparations, as if it were a foreign concept. The interaction was strange, but thankfully short, though the cessation made Mitaka fear for his job, even his life.

Their almost social interaction had caused him to have a small relapse in professional control, and his suggestion to have the General rest himself was revealed. Mitaka knew how hard he worked, and it was no mystery that he hadn’t taken leave at all, even though regulation demanded that every officer was to take at least 2 standard weeks reprieve each galactic cycle.

Though the general would be loathed to admit anything, it was obvious he was tired. Perhaps not just physically, however. It was also a tiredness in spirit. That was the whole reason why he was quick to his temper and easy to displease as of late. There was no doubt in Mitaka’s mind that the General’s cause for ailment was the same as his own: Lord Kylo Ren.

It seemed unfair that one man could cause so much trouble, especially since he really had no business on the _Finalizer_ at all. He wasn’t a part of the First Order. He didn’t have an official rank. No one was even sure what he even _did_. All anyone knew was that the Supreme Leader dumped him on Hux’s ship one day and that was the end of it.

The force user was to stay, and no one, especially not Lieutenant Mitaka, could say otherwise.

Mitaka would acquiesce to this seemingly glum certainty, if it were not for what happened not a month after General Hux offered him leave.

It was a quiet day all things considered. Everyone was going about their business as usual, not a single thing out of place. None of the technology was malfunctioning, events and meetings were right on schedule, and morale was up. The General even had a slightly upturned lip.

Just as Mitaka was finishing his daily report on weapon maintenance and stock, he felt a strange pressure upon the back of his skull, like someone was pressing their fingers into his scalp. He moved his hand to where the weight was pushing and felt his blood freeze. Nothing was there. In an effort to remain nonchalant, he casually rolled his shoulders and glanced around the room.

Kylo Ren was nowhere in sight. But the pressure did not lighten. In fact, it intensified. Now it was _inside_ his head, a headache blossoming in its wake. It tightened mercilessly, causing Mitaka’s eyes to close with a wince. This wasn’t the first time Kylo Ren had inflicted pain through this mysterious force when he was not angry (as far as he knew), though normally it happened on days of stress or constant minor mishap.

 _Why_ today _? Today was going so_ well _…_

“Lieutenant.”

Mitaka opened his eyes and immediately sat up straighter at the address from the General.

“Sir.”

“Report.” His voice was clipped, businesslike. But Mitaka could sense he was suspicious of something. He dearly hoped the General did not think of him daydreaming or slacking off. He had worked hard to get the esteem that the General obviously now had for him (if an offer of compensation with compromise was anything to go by). Considering the not so subtle threat he gave upon arrival a year ago, he indeed had made progress. He refused to allow a headache make him seem a weak or lazy.

At first, he managed. His speech was even and controlled, his information exactly as it was in his written report. However, he was abruptly thrown in a wave of pain that swelled up and enveloped his entire skull. It took him aback, causing a stutter and a twitch of tensed face muscles, straining to remain a normal countenance.

“-maintenance on c-canon seven is on schedule at 79%-”

“See me in my office, Lieutenant,” he was interrupted. The General sharply turned and walked off the bridge. Mitaka had to jog to catch up to him, his head throbbing painfully. They weaved down a hall, the general setting the pace with a quick and powerful stride that Mitaka had trouble keeping up with.

His vision was now swimming, making it hard to focus on where his superior was walking. He was growing dizzy and the squeezing intensified with every passing second. Soon, he felt like he was falling, and there was a jolt as he hit something. He attempted to move, but he was frozen, the pressure now holding his entire body.

_Why today…today was going so well…_

He struggled, but the power was holding him down, refusing to let even the slightest nudge happen. Mitaka wanted to scream, thrash, run, fight, _something._ Anything was better than feeling helpless against this person who commanded powers and felt the need to torture others. All at once, his frustration and exhaustion of spirit erupted in an explosion of pure emotion, and he grit his teeth savagely behind his closed lips.

 _Get out…I have had enough…get out…get_ out _…GET OUT OF MY HEAD, KYLO REN_

In an instant, the pressure, pain, and parallelization vanished. Mitaka released a gasp as he was released, and was surprised to find he didn’t fall to the ground. He soon realized it was because he was _already_ on the floor. He was on his knees, forehead touching the steel floor with his hands gripping his skull tightly. His fingers buzzed from the tightness of his hold as he let go.

A familiar set of heavy footfalls approached and Mitaka didn’t dare move, knowing who it was. To his utmost shock, they didn’t stop. Rather, they kept going, even when he heard General Hux call out to him sharply.

“I told you that my men are not your channels of your cacophonous emotions!” he heard him say, but Lord Ren just kept walking. Mitaka finally allowed himself to lift his head slowly, his muscles straining from the abuse it had just endured.

“Take your time, Lieutenant.” The General’s voice sounded closer than before. He now noticed that he was now squatting next to him instead of standing over him. Mitaka didn’t know if this was a sign of concern or rather he was just checking to make sure his officer was intact. He went with the latter.

“Thank you, Sir…” he murmured, swallowing hard. He didn’t look at the General, keeping his gaze adverted. He could feel shame gnaw in the pit of his stomach, knowing that his superior saw him it what was considered a compromised sate, and the threat resurfaced in his thoughts cruelly.

_That sort of occurrence is disastrous in a leadership role…I should like to believe a man can surpass such things… I expect as such from yourself, as well as all of my officers…_

Was he to be demoted for a break in protocol countenance? Was he to be punished for this? He slowly allowed himself to stand, the General following his example. He wiped his face to rid himself of any sweat and attempted to even his breathing.

“Permission to speak, Sir?” he asked quietly.

“Granted.”

“Am I to be demoted?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound pitiful.

“Demoted?” He sounded surprised. “For Lord Ren’s carelessness? Absolutely not.”

Mitaka let out a breath of relief and nodded. The general once more turned and walked (though much slower than before) down the hall towards the office. Mitaka hadn’t any trouble following the almost leisurely pace and was thankful for the small blessing. Once they reached the General’s office, he was immediately ordered to sit down and drink the glass of water that was thrust into his hand.

“I insist you take your leave, Lieutenant,” The general said darkly. “This breach was in no way out of line of Protocol 2-31’s standards of unforeseeable injury.”

“But, Sir, I am not inju-”

“Mitaka.”

He stared in shock at General Hux at the usage of his name. The general’s face was stern, but controlled. The anger rolled off him like an angry cloud that rained frustration and thundered with rage.

“After what has happened, can you honestly give any more excuse for Kylo Ren? Haven’t you had enough?”

“I…”

 _Had_ he had enough? He said so in his mind when he screamed for Kylo Ren to leave him be… perhaps it was just frustration at how quickly the tables turned for him in a manner of ten minutes. He surely could just go back to work and he would feel better in a matter of hours.

“Lieutenant, be honest with yourself.”

Mitaka sighed and hung his head in admission.

“Yes, sir…I am tired…”

_You win, Sir. Are you satisfied?_

“Good,” he praised, typing on his datapad. “Your leave shall begin in three standard cycles. Do you have any preference as to where you go?”

“Someplace quiet, Sir. Naturally warm.” Mitaka murmured. “Is it too much to ask for Naboo? I know the planet isn’t in First Order territory-”

“Done. I even know a house that may be suitable to your needs. Do you know of Varykino?”

Mitkaka gasped and stared at the General.

_Varykino!? Stars, the general must be mental!_

“Isn’t that house owned by the Royal family, Sir?” he asked hesitantly.

“Rentable to those who can afford it. Think of it as an apology for not being compensated for an entire year.”

“S-sir, its too much,” Mitaka insisted, shaking his head.

“It’s not just for yourself, Lieutenant,” he responded. “I plan to enjoy myself to a degree.”

_Plan to enjoy himself to a…what was he talking about?_

“Sir?” Mitaka timidly asked.

“You’re not the only one who has not served required leave, and to be blunt, I am at my wits end with Lord Ren. If there is no objection, I would like to join you.”

Mitaka’s mouth dropped, and his speech failed him completely.

* * *

 

_Hux_  

Was it an impulsive decision? Yes. Did it have its downfalls? Absolutely. But the benefits and potential information would certainly make it oh, so worth it. This was the perfect way to wrestle any or all traits from this conundrum. His intrigue was merely a result of natural puzzlement. Who couldn’t be confused by Mitaka’s selflessness and humility? Who could resist understanding such a strange persona?

There had to be a motive. Everyone had a motive. What better way to get it done than to corner him in the middle of a planet far from the power and eyes of the First Order’s rules and protocol? If they were in the academy, it would be a simple matter to whisk Mitaka into a room and use all sorts of persuasion tactics. As it stood, that was unavailable on the ship where his reputation was impeccable and there were even more eyes and ears that were far less forgiving. At least if he were at a remote location, the risk of being seen was eliminated.

Hux would not show it outwardly, but Mitaka’s reaction was absolutely entertaining.

“I take it by your silence and your stunned reaction that this bit of information was wholly unexpected?” he asked. This questioned seemed to break the younger man from his stupor.

“Y-yes sir…and I have no objection at all. If you are kind enough to supply a leave of such extravagance, who am I to argue with your own wants?”

_Again with the humility…honestly, does this man have no selfishness? Yet again, how do you refuse a general when you are a lieutenant?_

“Thank you. I will make all the arrangements. Does a standard week sound fair?”

“If you could, sir, I actually would only like to have three days.”

 _All the surprises…with how strange he is, should I even_ call _them surprises?_

“Why only three days?”

“I do not wish to be given an excuse to become lazy, Sir,” he responded. “That, and I will feel most comfortable about my work if I return to it as soon as possible. If I leave it for too long, all I will do is worry about it, and that would counteract the whole purpose of leave.”

“If you wish for only three days, very well.”

The Lieutenant thanked him, though his body language showed discomfort and unease. He however did not voice his concerns whatever they may be.

“Do you have any questions, lieutenant?”

“None, sir.” Mitaka denied, though hux was not fooled. However, he decided to delve into that later.

“Rodinon will be your stand in. Report to hangar seven at 1300 hours for departure. Dismissed.”

The lieutenant saluted stiffly and retreated from the room. Once alone, Hux allowed himself a triumphant smirk as he sat back in his chair.

He could barely contain his excitement at this opportunity, and barely thought of anything else for the rest of the shift. Never before has such a chance made itself known and it was unlikely that he would ever have the cards all laid out as they have now. Hux was an opportunist, and more than willing to exploit when everything was falling into perfect alignment.

When he returned to his quarters at noon, he packed the only clothes and items that didn’t have affiliation with the First Order, or at least didn’t have any logos or rank. As a result, his bag was mostly empty. Most of his belongings were military standard and thus had the telltale insignia. He knew that to arrive on a republic planet with such things was suicidal.

Three days of extreme caution was sacrifice enough for putting his mind at ease.

Upon arrival to hangar seven, the men around him saluted as he passed them. The Lieutenant was already present, standing at attention. When Hux passed him up the ramp, Mitaka followed him at a respectable distance, and retreated to a side quarter to place his bag aside. Hux went to the cockpit where the pilot and copilot were discussing routes. After a quick conversation, it was settled they would arrive in a few hours, just at around 2200 hours Nabooian time. Hux was pleased by this news.

He rather hated shuttle flights, and preferred to sleep afterwards to recuperate.

He returned to the main seating area of the shuttle and glanced around. There was a couch bolted to the wall with a small table to one side. Opposite to that were four doorways: three sleeping quarters and a bathroom. The interior was not much unlike that of the _Finalizer,_ so there was a familiarity that was comforting. Hux sat upon the couch with a sigh, feeling the engines awaken start their journey.

Normally, Hux would take out his datapad and overview notes of the meetings and reports relevant to the trip, but he found himself unable to do so. There was no meeting to attend with other generals, nor was he to oversee any sort of construction just yet. This was supposed to be a pleasure trip, or at least that was the purpose of leave. What does one _do_ on the way there?

It was at that moment that Mitaka entered the room, changed out of uniform already. It seemed that he was intelligent enough to realize what Hux had, and packed accordingly.

He took a second to scrutinize the man.

He seemed meeker out of uniform, though a little more physically fit than Hux anticipated. The seams and press of fabric against Mitaka’s form curved over his body just enough to reveal a strong square body, though still small in stature. He wore long dark pants over his regulation boots, with a pale button up shirt, pressed and not a wrinkle in sight. His shirt was partially undone by two buttons, and his collarbone was just visible.

Hux felt a small twinge of appreciation towards Mitaka’s body that had not been present before, though any thoughts along that road were quickly stifled. No need to admire something that may not be exploitable.

Mitaka’s gaze met Hux’s and he quickly looked away, shifting his weight between feet awkwardly.

“I…I apologize if I changed early, sir-”

“No need, Lieutenant.” Hux interrupted, taking the plain datapad from the side table to unlock it. “Where we are going, it is wise to be incognito.”

“Yes, sir…” Mitaka breathed out, sitting on the seat that was furthest from the general.

They were silent for a few moments before Hux decided that sitting in a heavy silence with Mitaka looking more and more disturbed by the minute would not do. This was another reason shuttle flights bothered him; everyone was quiet. Now, that was not to say that quiet was horrible. Rather, Hux enjoyed silence every once in a while. No, there was a particular silence that always occurred on a shuttle when he was present. He knew it was his own fault.

People, to put it simply, feared and respected him. As such, any movement was at risk to cause offense to himself, when he honestly could not care. As a result, the trip was not just awkward for his subordinates, but also for himself.

If he was to ever succeed in figuring out Mitaka in three days, he may as well break that awkward now.

“Lieutenant, have you ever been to Naboo?” he asked, glancing his way. The query seemed harmless enough. Mitaka flinched at the question, but didn’t falter in his verbal answer.

“No, Sir,” He said. “It’s part of the reason I wished to go.”

“I see…”

The conversation stalled, and they once more fell into an uncomfortable state. Hux tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair in thought.

_This is proving to be more difficult than I presumed…I do not recall having any issues like this in the academy when I decided to do this…_

A change in tactics was in order.

“Lieutenant, what would be the reason why you allowed Kylo Ren to abuse you so without complaint?” he asked, deciding to go to the root of the issue. Mitaka stared down at the smooth floor in seeming thought before answering at last.

“He is my superior, Sir. The only one who can stop him is the Supreme Leader, and that will not happen by my complaining.”

“ _I_ could have done something, Lieutenant.” Hux insisted. Mitaka’s eyes looked anywhere but Hux, a sign enough that he doubted his words. Hux had to admit, he really didn’t have control over Kylo Ren and what he did. This was probably why they never got along and constantly tried to find ways to drive each other up the wall. It was a miracle that they hadn’t attempted murder yet.

“Sir,” Mitaka said suddenly, catching Hux’s attention. “Permission to speak freely.”

“Granted till the end of this trip.” Hux nodded. “It would be quite tiresome if you were to be constantly asking me of that over the next three days.”

Mitaka’s shoulders relaxed, and Hux counted that as a triumph, albeit a small on.

“On the subject of Lord Ren, while I believe you very capable, Sir…No one can control him except his master, the Supreme Leader, or so I am told. I don’t believe there is the slightest hope for him to ever change his ways on his own and any attempt to do so is essentially madness…” Mitaka gulped and tore his gaze away.

“I have all the confidence in yourself, Sir…but please don’t bother when it will only result in more injury.”

Hux felt a jab in his chest at his words, and wondered if he was coming down with heartburn.

“I find your concern touching, Lieutenant, but your fear is misplaced,” Hux said. “The Supreme Leader has given strict instructions for his apprentice and how he is to behave towards equal equal rank.”

Mitaka seemed curious, and that brought on enough courage to continue the conversation.

“What kind of instructions, sir? If I am allowed to ask…”

_Now we are getting somewhere…_

“Things that enhance his ability with the force, as they put it. If I recall correctly, meditation, embracing emotion, and not allowing connections with others are a few.” He listed off. Its not like this was any large secret. Everyone knew that Lord Ren moped on a constant basis, and if he wasn’t doing that, he was raging like a madman down the halls.

“Connections, Sir?” Mitaka questioned, tilting his head to the side a little.

“Relationships, companionships, friendships, or any other bonds of that kind,” Hux specified.

“Oh…” Mitaka murmured, and paused. Suddenly he bit his lip and oddly began breathing out of his nose steadily. Hux raised a brow in puzzlement at the strange reaction, before realizing from Mitaka’s strained grin that he was attempting not to laugh.

“Find something amusing, Lieutenant?”

“I’m sorry, Sir…” he forced out, his voice straining. “Its just that…it explains a bit about him…”

“Oh?” Now it was Hux’s turn to be curious. “Elaborate?”

“He cannot have any sort of bond…that’s similar to the jedi and according to my research, they were celibate, weren’t they?” Mitaka’s voice rose slightly in pitch by the end and he took a second to collect himself. “Perhaps that’s why he always seems so cranky.”

There was a moment for the words to sink in, and suddenly Hux couldn’t help himself. He snorted through his nose as a laugh burst through his chest, catching them both off guard.

However, (as true to the laws of laughter) when one starts, it turns infectious. Mitaka’s control over his own snickering crumbled and their cackling soon filled the cabin. Hux could hardly breathe, and he could feel the tears in his eyes.

_Who knew Mitaka had such a humorously dirty side?_

“Lieutenant, I did not think you capable of such raunchy things…” Hux breathed out humorously once he could speak, his hand on his chest. Mitaka flushed at the comment, or it could just be the strange mirth still in his eyes from the laughing. It was a rather pleasant sight.

“My pleasure to have surprised you, sir.” Mitaka chuckled, smiling.

Mitaka’s smile was a small one. Gently curved with soft edges around the corners. His lips were small, but still were still soft to look at. One side was higher than the other, but it was admirable in its imperfection.

Hux blinked.

_Believe me, Lieutenant. You’ve done that more than you know…_


	3. III

_Mitaka_

 

Mitaka was relieved when the shuttle arrived on the outskirts of Theed, and it appeared the General was more than ready to leave the shuttle. Once they stepped off the ramp and onto the platform, the shuttle closed its ramp and quickly departed before authorities could question why a First Order ship was on the planet.

Mitaka was disappointed that they arrived at night, since now he couldn’t see the waterfalls that he had only heard of on holos. The now casually dressed General, much to Mitaka’s surprise, merely put his bag on the ground, walked briskly to a fountain, and threw up as dignified as he could. Mitaka adverted his eyes and pretended not to notice out of respect and perhaps a little fear. Instead, he busied himself with looking up at the stars, counting the systems he memorized in the academy.

“This way, Lieutenant.”

Mitaka snatched his bag and followed the general’s rushing form as they weaved through alleys and quiet streets, avoiding any of the locals in favor of stealth. It was lucky that this part of Theed was quiet at night, and thus easy to maneuver without being seen. Mitaka had no doubt that the General had planned it this way.

Because of this Mitaka felt at ease. In fact, said man had his datapad on hand and had navigated a route on the map that would take them to their transport.

Their journey was uninterrupted until a strange creature bumped into them unexpectedly, startling them both. The General seemed to reach into his jacket before remembering he didn’t have his sidearm. That was probably a good thing, since the creature stumbled with a warbling yell, but regained its footing.

“Ex-squeeze me!” it squeaked, and gave a small bow in apology before walking away without a care. General Hux narrowed his eyes after it while he snorted.

“Fumbling Gungans…” he muttered once it was out of earshot. Mitaka’s eyes widened.

 _So_ that’s _what they look like…_

“Lets move,” the General urged, starting off again but only at a quicker pace. Mitaka had to jog to keep up with him.

From there, they took a left, then two rights, then straight, and another right only to enter a marketplace and nightclub. Unlike the streets previously, it was filled with people bustling around, talking, eating, drinking, dancing, and laughing. The street was lit up brightly in a merry glow, giving the night a warm temperature of feeling.

Mitaka’s eyes brightened at the sight of all the different people and aliens that occupied the street, and suddenly felt overwhelmed. There was a distinct feeling coming over him that was bittersweet in nature and felt almost too real to even count as just feeling. It was _aching_.

The answer as to what it was didn’t come immediately until he saw a dealer slinking in the corner.

It reminded him of _home_.

“Mitaka!” came a snappish voice. He jumped and only just realized that he was just standing and staring out into space.

“I’m sorry, sir, could you repeat that?” he apologized.

“I said we have a transport and cannot dawdle.” The general sounded impatient, as if he were eager to get away from the crowd of people. Mitaka couldn’t deny that with so many different faces and cultures all meshed into one small street after being on a ship with the same people constantly surrounding him, this was a little unnerving.

They disappeared down another street and the further they walked, the quieter the air became. Soon, they joined a group of people at a local station. Mitaka realized in horror that the only identification he had was his military card for the First Order, and that was back on the _Finalizer_. He shouldn’t have worried, for the general simply procured two forged IDs to be scanned and they were admitted without a hitch.

Mitaka gave a sigh of relief as he sat on the transport’s seats, more than happy that he was not questioned by the authorities.

The transport was crowded with late-night travelers, so all the seats were either quickly taken or one was forced to stand. The general quickly slid next to Mitaka before it was claimed. Mitaka didn’t mind, as of he still looked a little pale from when he…er, vomited in the fountain.

_I suppose going in and out of an atmosphere is not something he’s used to…_

Mitaka took the time to observe his surroundings.

Most of the occupants were either human or Gungans, since that was the primary population. However, there was also a couple Twi’leks, a Keshian, and even a Chiss.

The closest to them was heavy looking Twi’lek, who seemed dead on her feet where she stood. She clutched the overhead bar with one hand, the other pressed against her lower back as if she was strained. After a few minutes of travel, however, she lifted one of her feet and slipped off her shoe, repeating the process with her other foot. By doing so, Mitaka got a full glance of her distended belly; she was pregnant.

When they made their first stop at one of the other shopping districts, and she didn’t make a move to get off, Mitaka stood. The general stared at him in absolute shock, bordering on horror, as Mitaka offered his seat to her. He pretended not to notice.

The Twi’lek collapsed onto his once claimed seat with a small “oof” as she cradled her stomach with her shoes in hand.

“Thank you so much! That was very sweet of you,” she said, flashing him a grateful smile. “I’ve been walking all day and this little one wouldn’t stop using my back as a hammock!”

“It is nothing, I assure you,” Mitaka replied in kind. “I’m sorry for your discomfort today. How far along?”

“Oh, only a mere couple weeks left!” she giggled. “they say another month, but I think he moves too much for it to be that long. If I don’t go into labor in a couple weeks, I’m sure he’ll _kick_ his way out!”

“That’s what my sister said about her first child,” Mitaka laughed. “Ironically enough, that was the _mellow_ one. Her second one was practically jumping out two months early. It got so bad that when she demanded a scan, they found out he ready to go. Five kilos.”

“My goodness! That’s heavy for a human baby!” she exclaimed, patting her tummy. “I hope mine isn’t too big. I’m not sure if I could handle it…”

“Is this your first?” Mitaka asked. She nodded.

“In that case don’t worry.” Mitaka assured. “All four of my sisters said that their first pregnancy was the hardest on their body, but it becomes easier with each child had. People wouldn’t have more than one if pregnancy, labor, and birth were so terrible. It has to be worth it, right?”

“I suppose your right. Its just nerves, you know?” She rubbed her belly a little. “Were they nervous about labor?”

“Of course!” Mitaka confirmed. “I remember my oldest sister having five false alarms out of nerves. Turns out she was just having trouble controlling her bladder.”

The Twi’lek laughed and covered her mouth.

“Oh stars, it must have given her a fright!”

“Naturally, when she _did_ go into labor, we all half thought it was another false alarm.”

She laughed once more and shook her head. She opened her mouth to say something before she flinched with an “oh!” Mitaka tensed at her reaction, but relaxed when she smiled.

“That was a rather hard kick, sweetie!” she cooed. “Will you please calm down by the time we get home so mommy can sleep?”

Mitaka smiled at the sight and leaned against the inertia of the transport as it made another stop. More people got off than got on, so there was a seat open for him next to her by that time. He took it, and they once more moved on.

“So what brings you to Theed?” she asked, eying the bags near him.

“Pleasure visit,” he said conversationally. “I’ve never been here and I was granted vacation.”

“If you have the chance, do stop by the Eastern marketplace. Its less touristy and has better deals. Most locals go there instead of the Northern district. That’s a tourist trap full of pit-pockets and spice dealers.”

“Thank you, I shall keep that in mind,” he said, throwing a sweet and charming smile at her, to which she simpered.

“Where do you come from?” she asked curiously.

“Not of Naboo, I’m afraid. I’ve only heard of this place through holos.”

“I’ve gathered that much sir-…I just realized I don’t know your name.”

“Dopheld. My companions call me Phel.” He introduced, holding out his hand. She took it and shook daintily.

“Ashara. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“And I, you.” He responded politely.

Instead of letting go of his hand, she took it to her stomach, where he instinctually splayed out his fingers to feel properly. A small bump against his hand was the reply at his touch and Mitaka smiled warmly.

“He’s very strong, Ashara. I am positive this one will be bouncing on your knee in no time.”

“I am positive you are right,” she agreed, patting his hand before he drew away.

The transport stopped once more and Ashara slipped on her shoes.

“this is my stop.” She said needlessly. “I hope you have a wonderful time here on Naboo, Phel.”

“Thank you. I wish you well in the remainder of your pregnancy and good luck in raising your child,” He bid farewell.

She moved towards the door that was next to them before pausing, and gave him a knowing glance.

“You have to be the kindest person I have ever met, Phel…and I didn’t expect that.”

Mitaka raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Why?”

“Lets just say it’s because of that, your secret is safe with me…” Ashara turned to the general and her eyes went to his feet.

“You might want to get rid of those boots, good sir,” she said, pointing to them. “They seem a little too _orderly_."

Before either of them could react, she stepped out of the transport and the door closed. They were off once more, and this time, they were alone. Even the driver was separated by a wall.

The general stood abruptly and towered over Mitaka, his eyes ice cold.

“What were you playing at, lieutenant?” he demanded.

“Sir?” Mitaka squeaked.

“Don’t play coy, _Phel_ ,” the General hissed. “What was the purpose of that entire exchange!?”

“So I cannot have a pleasant conversation for the sake of conversation?” Mitaka cried indignantly.

General Hux was about to speak once more, when the intercom turned on and told him that regulations demanded that he be seated while the transport was in motion unless holding onto a rail. He snarled and sat directly across from Mitaka with a huff.

“You could have conversed with myself, Lieutenant. _That_ at least would not have run the risk of giving us away!” he scolded.

“Sir, know that I have all the respect in the Galaxy for yourself when I say this: it was _you_ who gave us away,” Mitaka countered furiously. “For one, yes, those _are_ military regulation boots worn _only_ by a ranked officer in the First Order. I changed mine before we arrived. Secondly, it was no secret that you didn’t want her anywhere near yourself. Oh yes, I saw the look of disgust about you the entire time. It’s not uncommon in the First Order to support Human High Culture, and I do not wish to shake your beliefs, but she’s not a stupid whore like they say about Twi’leks. Anyone can feel animosity when it is staring them in the face. And lastly, you are so pale, it is impossible for you to _not_ reside on a ship for at _least_ a _decade!”_

The general opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, then finally closed his eyes with a groan, going limp in his seat.

As Mitaka’s temper faded and his heart rate slowed, his sensibility returned. He understood what he had said and essentially yelled at his superior officer. Mitaka’s expression turned to one of pained regret and an apology danced on his tongue tip before the General interrupted him.

“Right on all accounts but one, Phel,” he said, his gaze faraway and tired. “I do not support Human High Culture. Pregnancy is just unnerving to me.”

Mitaka swallowed.

“Don’t call me that, Sir,” he said firmly. “Only my friends and family do, and that’s their right.”

The General didn’t seem to react, but Mitaka didn’t push the issue. Rather, he had an matter on his mind.

“Sir, I apologize for associating you with the Human Supremacists and their Human High Culture,” he atoned. “I saw your reaction and I just assumed-”

“Grand Admiral Thrawn was a Chiss, Lieutenant.” He cut Mitaka off, his voice soft and pensive. This silenced him at once, the tone rooting him on the spot.

“The Rebellion general that planned the attack on the Death Star orbiting Endor was General Ackbar, a Mon Calamari.” He continued, his aqua eyes meeting Mitaka’s dark ones. “They never mention that in the Academy, and that remains to be a mistake. Without realizing that species of all kinds are more than intelligent enough to strategize and fight, how can any of our officers ever hope to consider their worth on either side of the war, without underestimation? The only reason why I have not admitted any other species into our rank is because none have been trained by the academy, and they never will with the old imperials in charge of the schools.”

His eyes were blazing with passionate emotion, though his face remained neutral. Mitaka was entranced by this, and remained quiet.

“I do not blame you to assume such a thing about myself, Lieutenant. However, that was not your intelligence being used at that point, and I would kindly ask you to consider your thoughts before you speak them next time.”

The threat was there, but only an undertone. Mitaka took that as forgiveness enough and hung his head respectfully.

The rest of the trip was made in absolute silence from the transport, to the connecting shuttle, to the boat, and finally to the house. By this time, it was nearly midnight, and neither of them had enough energy to even bid each other goodnight. Mitaka claimed the second largest suite out of respect of rank, and dropped onto the bedcovers. He was asleep before he realized he had closed his eyes.

When he awoke, there was a chirping whoop sound that made a sweet melody as the sun kissed his skin for the first time in a year. His eyes opened not to his minimalistic grey steeled quarters, but to the elegantly smooth architecture, ornately decorated with pillars and crown molding.

He took a deep breath of the distinctly sweet air that he associated with planet-side living, and buried his face further into the luxurious sheets. They were so smooth and unblemished that he hardly believed they were not liquid.

Another breath later, he sat up and slid out of the large bed, his gaze immediately going to the view he had only imagined from reading about it. his next breath never came, as of it was snatched from his chest at the sight. his feet took him towards the open alcove that was his private balcony, believing he perhaps had died in his sleep and awoken to heaven itself.

There was so much to take in, it hurt his eyes. Crystal blue water that sparkled more than the stars begged to be swum in. The pale sands that made a ring around the islands welcomed him to lay upon them to dry. The lush green plants that burst from the ground as far as they eye could see painted the landscape full of life that waited to be explored. The sky opening up like a curtain for the sun that blessed the entire land in warm light...it just needed to be admired.

He didn’t dare close his eyes for fear it would disappear.

Mitaka bathed in the the sun’s rays for a little while longer before a thought crossed his mind.

_I’m on leave. I can do these things…_

Immediately, he turned and rushed to his bag. His belongings he could bring were sparing, but at least he had a tank with training trunks, both dark in color. He was pretty sure everyone on the _Finalizer_ had such things for training sessions, so it wasn’t considered wrong to have things that didn’t have the First Order Insignia.

Once changed, he applied some lotion to his shoulders, neck and face, the only places he really burned if he ever went out in the sun back on his home world. He practically scurried down the halls and rooms to get outside in the sun once more. he barely looked around at the house, more occupied with thoughts of swimming in he perfect waters of this little paradise.

He nearly tripped over himself as he stopped himself from flinging his body over the balcony edge and into the waters below.

General Hux was stretching his limbs on the stone balcony, dressed very similarly to himself. This was the first time Mitaka had seen him out of strict modest dress, so to see him so exposed was…odd. Almost unfitting. For one, his shoulders were not as wide as he originally believed, but his body was still a defined “V” shape. Mitaka tried not to think of his own square shape. His hair was not as controlled, though it definitely was still parted a certain way. However, there wasn’t any products laced through the locks just yet.

“Good, you’re up,” the General commented, not sparing a glance as he twisted his body to stretch his spine. Mitaka nodded, though the General could not see it.

“That island seems to be a fair enough distance for a morning exercise.” the General continued, placing his hands on his hips as he gazed over the water.

“Yes, sir…” Mitaka murmured.

“Let us proceed.”

And with that, the General descended the stairs, walked out to the docked area and dove into the water with perfect form. When he resurfaced, he jerked his hair out of his hair with a swish, flinging water droplets everywhere.

“Don’t dawdle, Lieutenant!” he called, before starting off at a freestyle. Mitaka sighed and climbed onto the railing to dive off, just to save time.

Upon entering the water, the gentle caress of cool liquid soothed any nerved he may have had about joining in something so domestic as swimming with the man that was supposed to be his superior officer in all other circumstances. It had been too long since he had done such activities, and the relief was divine.

He caught up with the general at a fair pace, though he didn’t pass him. Rather, he kept just a little behind him in respect for boundaries. He could pass him, if he so wished. But he didn’t feel the need to. He wasn’t racing, and he wasn’t sure if the general was the competitive sort as to be offended that his subordinate outpaced him.

_Perhaps I’m looking into this too much…_

Soon enough, his feet touched the sand below, and he stood in the water, walking the rest of the way out of the water. The General was already ahead of him, wringing out his tank hemline, pulling the fabric flush with his body so that it showed of every curve of elegant slim muscle. Mitaka adverted his eyes and pretended to be occupied by his own attire.

_The last thing I need is for General Hux to think I have inappropriate admiration for his body…though I do._

“I commend you, Lieutenant,” the General said, his breathing and speech even. “Do you take advantage of the pool in the officer’s gym?”

As he asked the question, he lay on the sand with a sigh, closing his eyes. Mitaka sat beside him with enough space between them for another person. A _large_ person.

“No, Sir.”

The General hummed and they were once more silent. Mitaka dug his toes in the sand and smiled gently at the feeling of warmth over his cooled skin.

“You’re from Khubeaie, is that correct?”

Mitaka’s eyes widened for an instant but then remembered the General had his file.

“Yes, Sir.”

“It doesn’t have much sun, does it?”

“Mostly just misty, but there’s enough sun around. Nothing like this, though.”

“Isn’t that a spice planet?”

“Mainly a smuggler stop, Sir, and only in the major cities. I resided in the more rural area, but my family constantly commuted.”

“Was that common?”

“It was safer for families than staying in the city with smugglers.”

Silence.

“Would you say you ever had problems because of smugglers?”

“No, Sir. My family kept away from those districts. Though that’s not to say that I didn’t worry for my sisters whenever they went into town.”

“You never went with them to escort them or join them?”

“I was 15 when the sister closest to me married at 22, and by that time my oldest was pregnant with her third. They tried to get me to join them, but what purpose was there when what they wanted to would only result in myself being the ‘baby brother tagging along’. My father more or less joined them.”

“Not a servant?”

“We were poor, sir. As most were. But my mother spoke of hiring a hand once we were out of the house.”

Mitaka allowed himself to look at the General. he was staring up at the sky with his folded hands cradling the back his head. He seemed to be in thought, and Mitaka doubted that the subject of his thoughts were himself. Probably something more personal.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking…why all this curiosity about Khubeaie and my life there?”

in a flash, the General’s eyes steeled and he stood quickly. He brushed himself off smartly, his gaze not softening.

“Let’s jog around the island, Lieutenant.”

Mitaka was confused, but didn’t bother to argue. He instead followed him as he always did, his question still burning in his chest.

The island was not large by any standards. Rather, it was about a quick ten-minute jog around the entire circumference. This gave Mitaka a chance to fully appreciate the landscape of the entire area, and he was glad to do it to quell his mind.

With each pass around the bend, they came closer and closer to the water’s edge, as if they were afraid to run in their own footsteps. Mitaka wouldn’t deny that he was beginning to feel slightly winded by the time they had circled the small island the fourth time, and more than once his toes had touched the surf’s edge.

“You’re slowing,” the general’s barely faltering voice called from ahead of him.

He wasn’t even looking at him and yet Hux still _knew_ where he was and what he was doing. Mitaka wondered jokingly if he had tiny eyes at the back of his head from being in command all those years. As if to check, he looked on to his running partner and nearly tripped over his own feet.

The light from the Nabooian sun highlighted every admirable trait upon his face as if the solar rays were kissing a deity. His hair was on fire, burning brighter than Mitaka had ever seen and falling gracefully out of the closely tucked order that Hux had attempted to fix after they exited the water. Though he couldn’t see it, Mitaka was sure that he was scrutinizing everything with a his lightly steel eyes, undoubtedly having many important thoughts in his head.

He was magnificent.

And he was slowing…

Mitaka mirrored his pace and eventually they both ceased to allow time to even breath and heartbeat.

“Do you not exercise regularly?” Hux asked, placing his hands on his hips as his chest rose and fell a littler harder that Mitaka originally noticed.

“A little, sir. When time allows,” he responded honestly.

He bent over and placed his hands on his knees out of habit. He could feel the ache from their swim return, the run reawakening whatever strain he had put upon his unused body. He didn’t mind. It felt good to ache a little. “No pain no gain,” wasn’t it?

“I suggest you do it more.” Hux dug his foot in the pale sand as he spoke. “That way you’d keep up better next time.”

“I don’t feel too run down, Sir, but I-” he stopped, his form straightening in surprise. “Next time, Sir?”

“You believed this to be a one-time ordeal?” Hux gave him a look. “You have the time now, why not exploit? I run every morning anyway, so why not join me?”

Mitaka wondered if this was a trick question.

“I understand some people prefer privacy more than others, sir. As such I have no desire to overstep boundaries.” He swallowed. “I believed this morning activity to be by invite only.”

For a moment, all that could be heard were the songbirds that took residence on the small land mass and the water on the shore. Hux turned away, facing the lake house in the distance with a strange faraway look.

“Consider this an invite, Lieutenant.”

* * *

 

_Hux_

 

It was nearly 11 by the time they returned to the house, both men drying themselves as best they could on the balcony with the fluffy towels in a rack just inside the building. In the shade, it was considerably much cooler, and Hux found himself rather uncomfortable with how warm his skin was feeling. It seemed unnatural how even though he was cooled by the water and the lack of direct sunlight, his flesh felt hot to the touch.

 _Dehydrated_ , he dismissed. He resolved to drink plenty of water throughout the day to avoid it.

Mitaka entered the house first, tossing the towel into a hamper on his way in. He seemed to meander through the room with trepidation as if unsure what he was supposed to be doing. Hux could feel that same unsteadiness in his normally calculated mind.

 _What does one_ do _on leave?_

“Sir, do we prepare meals ourselves or is there a nanny droid here?”

 _Oh…he was wondering about_ food _._

“From what was supplied on the channel upon our arrival in regard for upkeep, a droid is available for cleaning and maintenance, but not meals. A fully stocked kitchen is supplied instead.”

“In that case, I should start prepping,” he heard him mutter. Mitaka turned back to Hux. “Do you have any preference as to what I prepare sir?”

“You cook?” He asked in return with an upturned brow. Mitaka nodded.

“I used to before I was commissioned, Sir. I may need to re-adjust, but it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Hux threw his towel into the hamper and entered the room as well, pushing his hair back into a decently clean look.

“I have no preference,” he said. Mitaka nodded and retreated towards what was presumably the direction of the kitchen. Once alone, Hux sat upon a couch, deeply puzzled.

So far, his exploits to pick apart this strange conundrum of a man were met with even more mysteries with every word passed between them. Every new tidbit of information only brought up more questions rather than answer any he originally asked. It was extremely frustrating. With only three days to solve him, it seemed this task was a little more difficult than he originally presumed.

 _A challenge, then_.

Hux always loved a challenge. Everything up to this point was one. Surpassing expectations even given by his father? Once he became general, check. Rebuilding the Insurgent Class ships to make it more deadly and efficient, as well as safer for the crew than the imperial ships? Three months on caf and research trips to every Outer Rim building outpost available had done the trick. Getting the highly esteemed regard from the Supreme Leader? Winning every battle for nearly three years and gaining ground for the First Order with every victory in the warzone as well as in politics assured it so. Set yourself apart from all other Generals before you and obtain absolute power in the galaxy? The design, construction, and completion of Starkiller Base will triumph.

Hyper-analyzing Lieutenant Mitaka? _Child’s play_.

Before any _real_ attempt is to be made to figure out this man, Hux decided to recap what he knew.

_Background_

  * _Home world of Khubeaie (Arkanis Sector)_
  * _Four married sisters (older) with children_
  * _Non-status Imperial born parents (Now deceased)_
  * _Poor in monetary standing_
  * _Valedictorian at Arkanis_
  * _Emotionally compromised upon high stress levels and anxiety (thus, stripped from honor of obtaining any status above Lieutenant unless otherwise granted by superior officer)_



_Physical_

  * _Basic facial features_
  * _Officer fitness_
  * _Basic stamina_



_Mental_

  * _Intelligent/well educated_
  * _Mature countenance_
  * _Demure/meek_
  * _Finesse in humility_
  * _Minimalistic_
  * _Quiet_
  * _Polite/happy manners_



Here, he paused in his mental list and thought back to the pregnant Twi’lek and his interaction with her. He wasn’t lying when he said pregnant women made him nervous. He wasn’t entirely sure why that was; perhaps it was just the thought of something growing inside another person resonated too much with tumors. He didn’t understand it, and didn’t want to, since he had no plan to make anyone pregnant by his own doing.

But Mitaka seemed overjoyed by the sight, and that was something that made Hux have a strange feeling inside that wasn’t necessarily disbelief so much as it was warmth. The way he was so open with her in support and reassurance…it was uncanny!

While the entire exchange was delightful in nature, there was something that bothered him to no end; how could he be so kind and public with her when he absolutely refused to open up for himself! He was right there, and more than willing to converse about this or that and he chose a complete _stranger_! He found out more about Mitaka based of what he told _her_ rather than anything he said directly to himself!

He supposed it was _because_ he was his superior officer. As it stood, he was on a pedestal and Mitaka didn’t seem to be eager to break that pillar of rank.

Hux shook his head and continued his list before he got carried away.

_Other Comments_

  * _Sexual orientation not stated_
  * _Shows concern and kindness, though unwarranted_
  * _Apparently knows how to cook_



_Impression thus far (subject to change): Harmless_

_Objectives for the next 3 days_

  * _Coax information at the smallest bidding/charm_
  * _Approve or disprove claim for cooking_
  * _Find sexual orientation and exploit if possible_
  * _Initiate-_



_What the-who is calling?_

Indeed, his comlink was going off, and rather loudly. He sighed and moved towards the bedroom he claimed and fished the device out from his organized bag. Once he saw the name, he resisted the urge to throw the device into the lake. With a practiced thumb press, he answered with a bored countenance.

“Lord Ren, this is quite odd of you to be calling me on leave,” He stated, at least gracing him with his title, though he had to remind himself to. It was harder to read the figure in hologram form, but he could tell that the Knight was displeased with something or another.

“I found it strange that you did not report on the bridge. This so called ‘leave’ is more strange than myself calling at all, especially with it being unreported. So unlike you, General…Are you incapacitated or ill?” The voice-coder alongside the digital attempt to mimic his words made his tone all the more condescending, and Hux’s eye twitched.

“So much like _yourself_ to not report things in an orderly manner. Regardless, I _did_ report leave, as every officer is required to do so.” Hux refrained from rolling his eyes. It was obvious the big idiot didn’t even check the system as to where or what he was doing before calling. The lazy bastard.

“Are my whereabouts all you require?” he asked.

“I was given a mission by the Supreme Leader that will take six weeks, and I require a squadron of troops, as well as the _Finalizer_. Your bridge command has failed to cooperate with my demands. Your absence has made them useless.” His head tilted to the side a little. “You haven’t even spoken of your whereabouts,” Kylo Ren accused. Now Hux _did_ roll his eyes.

“Naboo, which is stated in the report I filed in the system. If you are so inclined to know my happenings at every possible moment, I suggest you go through the reports, as of they are rather detailed and should satisfy even _your_ nosy curiosity.”

“Naboo?” The tone caught Hux’s interest. He seemed to be in a mixture of shock and disbelief.

_What garners this reaction?_

“Yes, Naboo. Why, is there something wrong with my choice of planet?”

“What part of Naboo?” the Knight demanded, ignoring his question. Hux narrowed his eyes, but was interested all the same.

“The lake country.” Hux revealed. He paused for a second. “Varykino,” he specified.

There was a choked sound from the hologram, and Hux turned his head to the side in curiosity.

“ _What are you_ doing _in the house of my grandmother_?” Kylo Ren growled dangerously. Hux could barely contain his glee.

“On _leave._ Didn’t you hear me?” he mocked with disinterest.

“ _Get out.”_ He snarled back. “You soil the ground just by _being_ in the house in which my grandmother, Queen Padme Amidala fell in love and married _Darth Vader_.”

“Showing interest in your grandmother now? My, what a transition!” Hux chuckled, taking great pleasure in this. “And wasn’t she a _senator_ at the time, not queen?”

“Remove yourself from the sanctuary of my Grandmother’s spirit!”

“You said they married here? Then I suppose they also spent their _wedding night_ here as well…” he made a show of looking around the room. “I _am_ staying in the master suite…no _wonder_ the bed was so comfortable…”

The image of Kylo Ren disappeared, but the call was not finished. Hux knew this because the feed was filled with the sound of unbridled rage and a wall being torn apart by a lightsaber. No doubt he had dropped the device and decided to take his anger out on a poor helpless side of Hux’s beloved _Finalizer_. However, if Ren was in his quarters, then perhaps this tantrum would be to Hux’s advantage. All he had to do was stall the cleaning crew with a simple report and-

_Wait…_

“Lord Ren, I am more than happy to send you your troops, and I wish you all the success in your mission that the Supreme leader has given you. I am eager to read your report on progress when I return in three weeks.”

“ _Three kriffing weeks!?”_

“A standard officer’s leave,” Hux lied, biting his lip to stop himself from sneering smugly. “If there is nothing else you require from me, I would like to return to my Corellian whisky while lying on the _sand_ beach.”

With that, he ended the call, and began making arrangements with his staff.

This house for three whole weeks… More time to obtain his personal goal of unraveling Lieutenant Mitaka, with an added bonus of torturing Kylo Ren without risk of him barging in and ruining everything; he would be away for six whole weeks with a mission from the Supreme Leader himself.

_How delightful…_


	4. IV

_Mitaka_

 

The refurbished kitchen was absolutely divine.

He knew that if his mother were to see this, she would absolutely faint and (upon waking) gush and go wild with excessive dishes every night. Mitaka had to admit that he was enthralled by it, though perhaps not in such extravagant extremes. 

The first half hour was spent just looking over everything and taking stock, while a million recipes flooded his mind with bits and tips on sautéing meat and spicing greens. Cooking wasn’t his passion by any means, but this wondrous kitchen was perhaps something that linked him back to his mother, a thing he had not indulged in since mourning her passing after graduation.

He had to reign himself in after a while, feeling as though he was getting carried away as he nearly skipped around the center island.

_The general said he had no preference to what I make…but that doesn’t mean I should take any chances._

He first thought of what dishes were suitable in lunch portions, then thought of the items that would perish first. Then he tried to configure any sort of meal that the general would be used to. He most likely grew up on Arkanis itself, and that food wasn’t so different that what Mitaka ate as a child. The spices were different, but at least he knew the meats were about the same. Furthermore, he couldn’t deny that their ration meals on the _Finalizer_ were bland, and it was probably best to start with something that wasn’t going to overwhelm either of them in flavor. Perhaps he will indulge on their last day. Eventually, he decided on a simple pan-seared fish filet with a salad. Simple flavors, but it will do.

Just as he was prepping the fish, he was joined by the general himself, and he seemed to be in much better mood. It wasn’t that he smiled (since he didn’t) but rather there was an ease in his step that wasn’t there before.

“Everything alright, sir?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Optimal,” he returned. Even his _voice_ sounded lighter. “Our leave has been extended to three weeks.”

Mitaka froze, and put the knife he was holding down in shock.

“Three _weeks_?” he choked out.

“Is that a problem?”

“N-no, Sir!” he quickly assured, turning around. “Just unexpected…May I ask how this came about?”

“Opportunity knocked.” Here, Hux smirked triumphantly. “Lord Ren, the very reason for our leave, is on a mission for the next six weeks. He showed a _tremendous_ amount of interest as to where we were staying.”

Mitaka gave a confused look.

“Pardon me for being perhaps senseless, Sir, but how Lord Ren’s interest in location an opportunity?” he asked.

“How much do you know about Darth Vader?” Hux asked.

“The Force user under the Emperor in the Imperial age? Isn’t that Lord Ren’s…for lack of a better word, idol?”

“Even deeper than that, Lieutenant.” Hux’s smugness intensified. “They are related. He is the direct grandchild of that Skywalker. This house belonged to the Naberrie Family. Among them was Senator and Queen Padme Amidala. The _wife_ of Darth Vader.”

Mitaka’s eyes widened as realization came.

“He knows we are here in the house that is connected to the family of his grandfather’s wife?”

“He knows we are here in the house that her and his grandfather fell in love and _eloped_ in.”

Mitaka turned back to the fish he had abandoned to hide his small smile of victory.

“Quite the perfect retribution for a difficult year on the _Finalizer_ , no?” Hux sighed, walking around the island and removing a bottle from the alcohol pantry. He heard a distinct pop as the cork was pulled off.

“Yes, sir.” Mitaka responded, turning to the general once more. He was in the process of pouring himself a glass when Mitaka saw the label.

“I don’t mean to pry, Sir, but…” he began. Hux looked at him while taking a sip. The reaction was instantaneous. He scowled at the flavor and stared at the glass in disgust.

“I do believe that’s cooking wine, not exactly a good drinking choice.” Mitaka said nervously. Hux coughed and quickly poured it down the sink and replaced it with water.

“Absolutely wretched!” he muttered before drowning the new glass down his throat. Mitaka finished the fish and grabbed the oil. He would find the entire situation humorous, if he did not have the risk of getting on the General’s bad opinion and thus resulting in demotion.

“I think any alcohol in this house would be in the bar or cellar, Sir,” he supplied. Hux shook his head in response. The experience with the poorly made, salty liquid apparently put him off the idea. Mitaka shrugged a shoulder and began heating the pan with the very thin layer of oil, keeping in mind the temperature.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

The question made Mitaka pause.

“My mother, Sir,” he said.

“She insisted you learn?” There was slight laughter in the General’s voice that suggested he thought his mother pressured him for the sake of power and ridicule. Mitaka’s grip on the pan tightened.

“It was how we bonded, Sir…” He specified, perhaps a little forced. “There’s little else that could encourage a son to have a relationship with his mother in the First Order without there being a claim that the son is coddled.”

That threw them both into silence, and Mitaka regretted his tone. While it was true he was on leave, that did not mean he was open to speak as he pleased with _General Hux_ himself being his roommate. He attempted to salvage the situation.

“I can see why one would take that into humor, Sir, but-”

“That was uncalled for, Lieutenant, and I apologize.”

He looked over at the General, who was staring him with an intensity that was unnerving. He couldn’t read his expression, and that made it all the more confusing.

“It’s…fine, Sir.” He murmured slowly. They were quiet as they regarded one another.

“It seems only respectful that since you are a product of her good teaching that I should not have suggested a lack of good character on herself.” Hux poured himself another glass of water and scratched his neck a little. “If you don’t mind, tell me about her. Your mother.”

Mitaka was stunned.

“I cannot see a reason why it would interest you, sir.” Mitaka put on a little casual smile, though he was uneasy about delving into the subject.

“On the contrary, I find it intriguing.” He countered, gracing him with an interested gaze. “Not every family is graced with a feminine presence that is willing to break social norms and show affection towards her son so openly as to bond with him.”

Mitaka had to collect his thoughts for a second. Was the reason for his interest because the General didn’t have a mother that spent time with him? Didn’t attempt to know him or love him? He squashed any sort of pity he could’ve felt, believing the General wouldn’t appreciate it.

Besides, he was the leader of the First Order under the Supreme Leader as the youngest general in _history_. It couldn’t have been so horrible to him if he was so successful and seemingly satisfied.

“She was…very sentimental, sir.” Mitaka started slowly, laying a filet in the pan carefully. “She wanted to have a happy and healthy household. Her way of doing so was to prepare my sisters for married life, since that was how she made her way through the world. And to not leave me on the sidelines, she taught me how to cook with them.”

It felt strange speaking of her after so many years. He was actually shocked when he realized that he barely even thought of her up till now. It seemed that work had finally made him numb or at least acquiesce to the fact that she was gone and had to move on. He wouldn’t consider thinking of her a sign of pain, but talking? He still wasn’t sure. It was strange, especially since his audience was his _superior officer._

“She sounds intelligent,” the General commended with a small hum. “Would you say that she taught yourself and your sisters well?”

“Without a doubt, Sir,” he confirmed. “All of my sisters were married by the time I left for the academy, and are successful in having children of their own. As for my cooking skills, that is up to your good opinion.”

They sat in silence, though this time it was a little more comfortable. Mitaka would normally follow social norms and ask after his conversation partner’s experience with the topic of choice, but as it stood, Mitaka felt that was uncalled for. He was not talking to an equal, and as such, he believed it best to simply listen if the General wished to speak of his own experiences. As of he kept a closed lip, Mitaka assumed he didn’t wish to say anything.

“Did your father approve of this bond?” he asked when Mitaka started on the second filet.

“He commented that it was ‘women chores’ once, but my mother had a way of explaining her reasoning, Sir.” Mitaka thought for a moment before continuing. “I believe he never really disapproved, since he wanted her happy, and there wasn’t any harm in learning a new skill.”

“Did he often let her do what she wanted to make her happy?”

The question sounded as though the general believed his father wanted to avoid an outburst from his wife. Mitaka reminded himself that he shouldn’t be offended; it wasn’t common to have a relationship that worked as his parents in a culture where marriage was more or less treated for prosperity in money and power rather than any emotional compatibility. It wasn’t uncommon for marriage partners to just tolerate each other.

“Yes, sir. He made her happy because her happiness was in direct line with his own through their love and respect.”

This evoked a partially surprised sound from the General.

“Would you say they married for love?” he asked. Mitaka was a little startled that the General seemed almost in disbelief. Perhaps the feelings of love were hard to see in his family situation, and as such seems odd that Mitaka’s family life was so open with it.

“I know it’s not common, Sir, but I think that it was a part of it,” he flipped the fish and tilted the pan, glancing back. “True, the reason for their union was primarily for progression in status, but they actually liked one another upon meeting, or so I was told. I think its proper to say that they _grew_ to love each other.”

 “And do you feel that will happen for yourself, Lieutenant?”

“I would hate to not respect my partner, Sir, but given my career and how much I work, I don’t think marriage is in my future. I leave that for my sisters.”

He carefully placed the filets over the multicolored salads he had prepared beforehand and took out side ingredients and dressings to give options of flavor. The General took this a cue that lunch was served and only drizzled some vinaigrette over the entire dish. Mitaka added a few spices that he particularly liked on his fish and deloused the greens in three sauces. The General raised a brow but said nothing.

Mitaka, however, burned with questions.

“Sir, may I ask you something?”

“You may ask, though I may not answer.”

The general took the silverware laid out on the counter and strolled towards the finely decorated circular dining room that was adjacent to the kitchen for easy access of servants that may have once been there. Mitaka followed, originally planning to simply eat at the countertop, but too curious about his inquiry to be bothered with that. Even if the General would not answer if he so chose.

“Why are you so interested in myself, Sir?” he asked. When the General whirled around with a stern gaze, Mitaka quickly specified. “I am no one of importance and it seems odd that anyone above my status would care to ask me such things.”

“Is it so odd, Lieutenant?” he asked in return, placing his plate on the table. Mitaka just stood dubiously in the doorway with his own plate, thoroughly confused by his reaction.

“Well…yes,” he said slowly, so puzzled that he didn’t address him with sir. “I can only gather that someone would take interest in myself if I either impressed them by my actions and conduct, or had a quality that the other person has an opinion of, positive or negative.”

“Sit down, lieutenant.” The General waved his hand towards the seat across from him. “You look like a fool in that doorway while trying to explain yourself.”

He quickly did as he was ordered to, but even as he was seated, the General didn’t begin eating. Instead, he stared expectantly at Mitaka, waiting for him to continue. So he did.

“I would never be noticed because of my work, since it is only expected of an officer to do his best. I would not be noticed because of my name or status, since I have none to mention. I have done no spectacular thing in my life other than claim title of Valedictorian at the academy, and that has not exactly built much of a future for myself when it comes to climbing the ladder. Not that I have any desire to, really.”

“You see, Lieutenant? There is your answer.”

“Sir?”

“You _have_ done something worth noting other than being Valedictorian,” the General insisted. “You do realize that Kylo Ren’s attack upon your mind damages most men permanently? That what he did is a common torture method he utilizes constantly on prisoners of war and occasionally on one of my men? That it should have driven you to permanent insanity or death? And yet after it happened, the first thing you asked was if you were to be _demoted_ as if his barbarianism was _your_ _fault_?”

_So he_ was _checking to see if I was still an officer of the Order and not some shell or nerf._

“And as if that were not enough,” he continued. “You wanted to go _back_ to your station as if nothing had happened. If anyone survived as you had, they would have either quit, or asked for their own ship as compensation. But not _you._ ”

Mitaka stared at him openly, his mouth slightly ajar in shock from the General’s words.

“I…was not aware that was something monumental,” he admitted, looking down at his hands in embarrassment. “I apologize for my ignorance, Sir.”

“Regardless,” he dismissed. “While I do admit I was not wholly aware of your presence much before that abuse, I can say for sure that the event has garnered yourself recognition that I doubt will be overlooked in the future by anyone. It is an admirable trait indeed to be devoted as well as strong minded. So, yes, your actions have made you intriguing to a general of the First Order.”

With that, he picked up his fork and took a bite of the fish.

“Add the fact you _can_ cook to the list of worthy traits.” He commended. “I believe this will make a very satisfying three weeks for the both of us. We both receive solace from Lord Ren, good food is guaranteed and we have this home to ourselves. The relaxation is for your benefit of mind and the benefit for myself is that conversation may not be so dull.”

“Sir, with all do respect, I am not someone’s entertainment.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Mitaka wanted to bite his tongue off.

“Of course not!” the General agreed. “I apologize if that was implied. Rather I am appreciative that topics for conversation will not always be on maintenance, troop formation, and ship coordinates.”

Mitaka sighed and began to eat.

_Forget Lord Ren’s torture methods; how can I keep my sanity for the next three weeks with General_ Hux?

* * *

_Hux_

 

Thank goodness he was none the wiser of his true intentions. Mitaka was no fool, but luckily neither was Hux. He knew how to weave in and out of a conversation to achieve desired effect on people. So far, he had gathered a little information about his home life, which was good progress.

The rest of the meal passed by in relative silence, and thankfully with less awkwardness. Perhaps with each day Mitaka will grow more and more comfortable in his presence just by being near him. The fact that Hux never socialized on the _Finalizer_ was common knowledge and as such he knew there was a disconnect that had to be broken through first.

And then there was the fact that he was his superior officer. That certainly would be reason enough for the conversations as well as silences stiff. Regardless, they were making progress. And now with three weeks all to themselves, perhaps Mitaka will so far as to stop “almost-saluting” him every time he left a room.

Hux found himself an hour later on the couch with a book in hand. He would have tried for conversation again with the Lieutenant, but as soon as the meal was over, he disappeared. No matter. It seemed that the literature owned by the republic according to the people was something to be admired, though he himself did not believe so. The military guides and war stories were enough for him.

The book he picked up was an adventure story of some sort. He really wasn’t paying attention to it, though. For one, he could not get comfortable in his seat. The cushions were plush and luxurious, but they felt irritable against his body. There was this dull ache in his muscles that was perplexing. It was not an ache from running or swimming, that much he knew.

That, and his skin was still warm. And itchy. Was there some sort of component to the water that was making him have an allergic reaction? The sand perhaps?

_If it’s because of the sand, I may begin to feel Ren’s abhorrence to it._

Hux sighed as he swiped the book away on his datapad, giving up completely on the endeavor. Instead, he sent a few messages back to his crew asking for reports and updates. Instantly he was flooded with messages about Kylo Ren. How he was threatening everyone, demanding that his orders be followed, and essentially causing havoc. Only this time, there was no General Hux there to restore the order and calm on the bridge.

_This really was a rash decision…I may just return to my ship in shambles._

He opened a new private channel directed to Kylo Ren’s datapad.

_Hux: Ren. Stop breaking my ship. You have your troops._

There was barely a pause before he received a message back.

_Kylo Ren: Get out of my grandmother’s house._

_Hux: It’s your fault that I am even here. If you had not run myself ragged with your insufferable lack of order, I would not have taken leave. Take responsibility. Do your mission. And stop harassing my men._

_Kylo Ren: My grandfather would be ashamed that such force-incapable people such as yourself are occupying his sanctuary. Have you no respect?_

_Hux: My thoughts exactly towards yourself, only add “common sense” to the list. The more you tear up my ship, the longer your mission will take. And then perhaps the Supreme Leader would be disappointed to hear that the reason for the delay was caused by his own apprentice’s stupidity._

He didn’t receive a response from him, but he did get a message from tech that Lord Ren asked for a new datapad. Hux rolled his eyes and granted it, advising the staff to also supply an extra durable case as well.

It seemed he had been working for a much longer time than he originally believed, since the sun was now beginning to descend. Hux sighed and rose from his seat, his muscles still aching. He casually went to the loggia, and stood between the pillars with his hands folded behind his back in parade rest out of habit. The sun was not facing him here, so he was able to see everything without having his eyes strained.

The planet really was beautiful. He could see why many thought Naboo to be the utopia of the galaxy and essentially the best of the old republic. The planet was just so lush and full of color and life. it was strange…he didn’t know there was this much color in the whole galaxy…yet here it all was on this strange getaway planet.

_If I ever get to claim personal control of a planet, Naboo shall be it. And this house shall be mine._

He had to chuckle.

_What would Darth Vader say to_ that!

“What would Darth Vader say to what, sir?”

Hux whirled around to see Mitaka standing by a pillar, his head tilted in curiosity. Hux wondered how he had managed to be so quiet, and how long he was standing there.

“Just thinking of what would happen if I were to take Naboo for my personal control, especially since Kylo Ren wouldn’t stop mentioning his grandfather’s significance here,” Hux chuckled. Mitaka seemed to mull his words in his head.

“I’m sure you will get this planet eventually, should you wish it, Sir,” He said. “But I hope when this happens, you will allow people to come here every now and again? For leave?”

Hux laughed humorlessly.

“Invite only, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, Sir,” Mitaka murmured, looking as though he knew he was going to say that. “I just came out here to tell you that dinner was ready.”

It was then that Hux’s stomach voiced its agreement with his words, and Hux nodded. Together they walked to the kitchen where each served himself a portion of what looked to be a braised bird with seasoned vegetables. Hux immediately moved for the dining area, but stopped as he noticed that Mitaka wasn’t following him. Instead, he sat at the counter very casually, opening a _physical_ book. Hux couldn’t remember the last time he saw one.

“Lieutenant, will you not join me in the dining room?” Hux asked. Mitaka paused and glanced his way for an instant. A flash of trepidation crossed his features, but nevertheless he closed the book and picked up his plate.

They took their previous spots at the table, once more in silence.

“Why would you wish to eat at a counter is beyond my knowledge, Lieutenant.” Hux began, hoping to escape the uncomfortable lack of conversation once more. “This dining table has a purpose.”

“Yes, sir.” Mitaka said tersely, not looking up. Hux frowned.

_So that is how it will be…very well._

 “Mitaka,” he said, putting down his fork. “Let me hazard a guess as to what is running through your mind as of now; you see me as your CO that demands absolute respect and protocol. You see me as this big powerful general that holds your career in his hand. One wrong move, and all your hard work is gone. Is this a correct picture, or do I exaggerate?”

Mitaka shrunk down with every word, and the expression on his face looked as though he was wishing for death.

“Yes, Sir…” he murmured.

“I thought so.” Hux tapped his fingers against the table in consideration. “Lieutenant, as of we are on leave, everything that happens here on this planet is off the record. I believed this to be self explanatory.”

_I didn’t actually. But I’m tired of flying around the asteroid field with you._

“Off the record, Sir?”

“Yes. For the next three weeks, you do not need to be guarded in your countenance. This is leave after all, and the purpose is to relax.”

Mitaka looked unconvinced. Hux let out a breath in admission and stood. He ordered Mitaka to do the same, and he did so, albeit confusedly. Hux lifted his right hand with a fist, similar to a salute.

“You have my word, as a general as well as the only living Hux left, that anything that is said or done here _can_ _not_ and _will_ _not_ effect your military career in any way, shape, or form,” he said, lowering his arm so that his hand was outstretched towards Mitaka. “That is my oath and promise to you.”

Mitaka stared at the appendage unsurely for a moment, a mental war in his eyes. Slowly, he closed his hand around Hux’s forearm. Hux mirrored the grip with Mitaka’s own arm, and the deal was sealed.

Hux made a small nod in approval at this new development, though Mitaka still remained tense.

_It’s a step. He will come around. Now he has reason to believe I am not a monster waiting for him to slip up._

They sat down once more and began to eat. Hux was surprised by how much flavor there was in each bite and was curious as to how that was possible. He supposed it was though Mitaka’s doing.

Granted, he was used to rations his entire life. When he was younger, yes there were extravagant meals and snacks at parties, but that was a long time ago. So long, he couldn’t even remember what that food tasted like. Food to him on the _Finalizer_ essentially was a necessity, not an indulgence. Food didn’t need to have flavor, it just needed to nourish.

_There may be a danger of having such food for three weeks…_

Hux looked up to ask Mitaka how he put such flavor in the dish, when he saw that Mitaka’s spot was empty. He confusedly looked around the room and was shocked to see that he was suddenly alone.

_How is he able to just leave a room without a sound like that?_

Leaving his half finished plate on the table, he decided to find the slippery lieutenant. He didn’t have to search long. In fact, first room he looked housed him.

Mitaka had returned to the kitchen. He was sitting once more at the counter with his plate and book.

“Lieutenant?” Hux called. Mitaka turned in his seat with a neutral expression.

“Sir?” he asked.

“You left the table,” Hux said needlessly. Mitaka nodded.

“I did.” He said simply, returning back to his book. Hux stared.

_He didn’t use ‘Sir’…_

“To…eat at the counter,” he specified.

“Yes.”

“Any reason?” Hux asked.

“I didn’t want to be at the table.” Mitaka didn’t look from his book.

Hux felt a strange feeling come over him. He couldn’t identify it with any words immediately, and it was perplexing.

“I…see….” he murmured slowly, his mind still trying to catch up with whatever he was feeling in his chest. It was a twisting sort of ache that he had never felt before.

“I will leave you then.”

He turned on his heel and retreated to the table where his food lay tauntingly. He ate it anyway, each bite stabbing him in the chest further.

Why was he so upset by this? He had never been bothered by eating alone before. He’d done it for years, ever since he became an officer. He was the youngest for the longest time, and as a result the other men treated him with contempt. Therefore, he would eat alone, not bothering to attempt to get their approval.

_No…I will not think of anyone’s approval. Approval from others is a fool’s errand._

If it wasn’t the fact that he was eating alone, then…wait…

_Mitaka only left after being assured that his career would not be effected by whatever was said or done in this three-week period…he said he didn’t want to be at the table...in other words, away from myself. He…_

Hux stood immediately, dropping his silverware on his plate. He hurried to the kitchen, only to find it empty. The book and plate were gone, and the kitchen was pristine as ever.

_Where…_

Quickly, but not so much as to call it hurried, he scoured the house for the Lieutenant, unsure why he was suddenly nervous. It’s not like the man would just up and leave the planet. Where would he go? Furthermore, _how_ would he get there? Still, he worried. Perhaps it was his controlling nature. Yes, that was it. He merely liked to know where everyone was at all times, and he simply was exercising that component of his personality.

Mitaka was found to be lying on a plush couch with his book raised to his eyes in a side den with a fireplace. The fireplace was the only source of light in the room, throwing them both into a flickering burnt umber glow that reflected off every surface in a pale orange.

The lieutenant was very casually sprawled out with his head on a pillow, and his bare feet snuggled under another. His face was relatively relaxed as his dark eyes scanned the page at a decently slow rate, obviously taking in the words with great care.

At the sound of Hux’s entering, Mitaka lowered the book to his chest and turned his head only just in his direction.

“Is there something you needed, General?” he asked. He sounded like he didn’t want to talk, much like how Hux would when he felt he was being bothered when doing something important; polite in speech, but obviously irked all the same.

“Have I offended you in any way, Lieutenant, as to make you abhor my company?” Hux asked. Mitaka narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Excuse me?” he asked.

“Have I done anything that has made you wish to stay away from me?” Hux repeated. “If I have, I wish to make amends.”

He found, for some unknown reason, that he did. That even though he primarily wished to remain on Mitaka’s good opinion on account of achieving his goals, there was a small sensation underneath that urged him to do so for the sake of…for the sake of what, actually?

_What, can I suddenly not live with Lieutenant Mitaka thinking ill of me!? Absurd!_

Mitaka glanced at his page and closed the book, sitting up on the couch with an expression of deep tiredness of the spirit.

“Sir, you have not done anything to cause calumny on my part. I merely am exhausted with interaction,” he said. “I have always been able to be with people and interact with them well enough, but for some reason, every once in a while, I find it tiresome and thus wish to be alone. It is a flaw that I account for. Whatever is wrong with myself, it is not caused by you, Sir.”

Hux let out a small breath in relief, but remained cautious.

“I apologize for my ignorance, but I do not follow,” he admitted, sitting on the couch across from him. Mitaka nodded, as though this was something he had explained before.

“I like being alone every now and again. It’s like a time for me to recharge my batteries, so to speak. Every time I interact socially, a little of my energy is used. Work is different, since it is like a therapy for me. On the _Finalizer,_ I had a better time because work was one way for me to recharge. But here and now, in constant social expectation…it’s much more difficult.”

“But you had no trouble with the Twi’lek woman,” Hux pointed out.

“Yes, but that was different,” Mitaka said. “Talking to someone in passing for me is not as hard as being around someone constantly.”

“I have barely seen you today, Lieutenant,” Hux countered. “Just this morning on our exercise, lunch, and then dinner. You cannot deny that I play a part in this...lack of social energy.”

The Lieutenant sighed in admission.

“I…admit that you do have a part. But only your identity, sir.”

“I had hoped we had done away with that issue, Lieutenant.” Hux muttered, disappointed. “I swore an oath to you not but a half hour ago. I did so to put your mind at ease.”

“That does not miraculously ‘fix’ my tolerance, sir, as much as I wish it did!” Mitaka suddenly burst out, causing Hux to lean back in his seat in surprise. “This personality condition has caused me grief on occasion, and I have been struggling with it since! I do not take this lightly, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t treat it with such casualness as to suggest that ‘if I say a few words, suddenly your personality is fixed’!”

“I am not suggesting that! So you wish to be alone; everyone does at some-”

“Do _not_ finish that sentence, Sir.” Mitaka spoke through gritted teeth. “Not everyone _requires_ it _function_.”

Hux was startled by the sudden chilliness of the room, even though the fireplace was still roaring. He had never seen Mitaka so cold and intense. His entire body seemed tense and ready to spring.

Hux immediately knew he had touched a sore spot, and paused in thought before attempting to speak.

“Why do you treat this issue with such severity? How has this become a problem, in your mind? I obviously do not understand, but it is clear that you see this as a detriment.”

Mitaka slid back on the couch so he was reclined against the back cushions, his eyes loosing their iciness and becoming unfocused as if he were lost.

“I do not wish to speak of this any more,” he said decidedly. Hux considered pressing further for a moment, but decided against it. The least desirable outcome of this interaction would be the Lieutenant closing himself off completely, and never being open again. granted, this was hardly being open at present, but truthfully he counted this as progress. He didn’t want to risk that.

“As you wish, Lieutenant…” Hux acquiesced, scratching his overly warm neck. “Shall I leave you to your book?”

“Please, Sir.”

Hux could hear in his voice that he was trying to stay courteous, but was at the end of his rope. He wasn’t sure how Mitaka would snap, but however he did, he wasn’t about to find out. He bid him goodnight and retreated from the darkened sitting room, back to the dining area to clean up his mess, his appetite officially gone.

As he washed his dishes and put them away, he suddenly noticed how pink his skin was. It was warm to the touch still, and the ache returned. He poured another glass of water for himself and downed it in a few gulps.

_Damn this planet and damn Mitaka…_

Whatever had happened to the man to make him believe himself flawed by his preferences of company, Hux had a strange inkling it had something to do with his emotionally compromised state four years ago.

And finding out that bit of information would bring him closer and closer to his goal.

_But then…_

Hux felt his stomach drop as a thought crossed his mind.

_What happens when I do find his motives? In the past, every man I had attempted to break down ended up dying by my hand…if this pattern continues…no. It was always by my choice. Except that first time, but my father is not here to command such things, not that I would follow his orders. He does not have to die._

Satisfied with this, he immediately began to prepare for bed with a long shower. Or at least, with the intent of doing so. What actually happened didn’t go according to his original expectation of relaxation. As soon as he stepped under the stream of warm water, he felt like he was doused in the lava flows of Mustafar.

With a panicked cry, he threw the temperature to the coldest possible, groaning in relief that the pipes obeyed immediately. His skin was now an angry red, and he felt strangely swollen, and his fingers were difficult to bend and flex. In fact, he felt that way about his entire body, as if there were fluids pooling just under the surface and restricting his movements.

However, upon inspection, he looked normal with the exception of the pink sections on his body. Oddly, there were two white stripes on his shoulders, and stretched to join just below his clavicle in a ‘U’ shape. The white stretched down to mid-thigh, where it was joined by a defined line. The redness was even on his feet!

When he climbed into the bed, the sheets that he once marveled at with admiration of softness, was now like sandpaper. No matter what position he got in, the itchiness and heat would not abate, and the linins clawed at him with fury.

_It’s going to be a long night…_


	5. V

_ Mitaka _

 

Mitaka woke up not in his bed. After a few minutes of staring at the rug next to the couch, he remembered what happened. He must have fallen asleep while reading his book. He shifted slightly and was surprised to find that none of his muscles ached or were stiff. With this new bit of information, he braved getting up from the couch. Still no stiffness. Nevertheless, he stretched his back and arms out of habit.

He snatched his book from where it had fallen in his sleep, and placed it on the side table. He wasn’t against romance novels, but this particular one was named one of the greatest literary works in the Empire age of Naboo, based very loosely off the secret love affair of Anakin Skywalker with Padme Amidala. After hearing the history of the house and its connections, it piqued his interest somewhat.

Honestly, some of the lines were just ridiculous.

_“I don’t like sand…its coarse and rough and irritating…and it gets everywhere…not like here…here everything is soft…and smooth…”_

_“From the moment I met you all those years ago…not one day has gone by when I haven’t thought about you…now that I’m with you again, I’m in agony…the closer I get to you the worse it gets…the thought of not being with you…I can’t breathe…I’m haunted by the kiss that you never should have given me…my heart is beating, hoping that kiss will not become a scar…you are in my very soul, tormenting me…”_

_“You’re so beautiful…” “It’s only because I’m so in love…” “No…no, its because I’m so in love with_ you.” _“So love has blinded you?” “Well that’s not exactly what I meant…” “But it’s probably true…”_

Yes, they sounded alright _at best_  on paper, but Mitaka _doubted_ they could say those things in real life and still be serious. The very thought of them _actually_ saying those lines…it just made him shudder. Now, Mitaka was not spitting on the idea of being passionately in love, but rather acknowledging the fact that when someone says “you are my life and my soul-mate,” it comes off more as unnervingly obsessive rather than being in love. It was sickening.

Mitaka vowed that if he ever fell in love with someone, he would never be so cliché.

He entered his bedroom, showered, and changed into a new batch of clothes. He thought vaguely of whether or not he should go and get more clothing in Theed instead of recycling the same four outfits over and over for the next three weeks. Even if the maintenance droid did laundry, he owned more _uniforms_ than what he had here in his bag.

As he made his way towards the kitchen, he passed by the general’s room. A sound emitted from the other side of the door, that made him pause. It was a cross between a moan and a whimper, and Mitaka swallowed whatever saliva was in his mouth.

_Keep walking. Keep walking, this isn’t your business. All men do it. Perfectly natural. Just walk away._

“Lieutenant?” the General called weakly.

That stopped Mitaka from briskly walking away with a blush on his face. It was not a groan of pleasure; it was a _pained plea._

“Sir?” Mitaka responded from the other side of the door.

“I am indisposed…” he said. There as a rustling and a hiss. “You may need to take down my last testament. I do not know how much time I have left…”

“Sir!?” Mitaka cried in shock before collecting himself.

_How…what was wrong? Why does the he believe he’s dying?_

“Sir, may I enter and speak with you directly?”

“I suppose there is no avoiding it…” he croaked. “Steel yourself, Lieutenant, it’s not a pretty sight.”

Mitaka turned the handle to the door.

“Sir, I assure you that I-”

He never finished his statement.

_Oh stars above me…_

The general was splayed across his sheets with the covers off him, revealing his mostly naked form, save the boxer briefs. His hair was disheveled from lack of grooming, and his limbs stuck out at odd angles. His eyes were glassy and wet from tears of pain. The expression upon his face was of absolute suffering.

The cause of his suffering?

His skin was an angry red that rivaled the burgundy pillows Mitaka slept upon the night before, and was speckled with small white blotches of fluid all over his arms and lower legs. Some of the blisters were broken open and weeping clear bodily fluids tinged slightly yellow. His face was luckily spared from blisters, though it still was red just as the rest of his body that was not covered from the tank and shorts.

“Quite ungodly, isn’t it?” Hux murmured, not moving at all. He didn’t even turn his head to look at him.

Mitaka shook his head to clear it.

“Not at all sir,” he assured. “I was just expecting you to be…well, deathly ill.”

“Am I not, lieutenant?” the once proud general snapped angrily.

“Well, no, Sir…” Mitaka said quietly, confused. He tried not to stare at the burns. “Have you…never had a sunburn before? Or in this case Sun poisoning?”

“The sun poisoned me? I was not aware of its capability to do so…”

“It’s not _actually_ poisoning you. It’s just your immune system reacting to extreme sun exposure…” he walked around the bed to stand beside him. “Have you ever used sunscreen before?”

“Used what?” he questioned, clueless.

“Never mind. The fact of the matter is that you are _not_ dying sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. Though, these burns _are_ severe…I’m not surprised now that I think about it, given the fact you haven’t been planet-side in a long while…

“Almost three months, lieutenant,” the general corrected. “There was a summit on Lothal.”

“In the time you were ever planet-side, have you ever been out in the sun?” Mitaka inquired.

“If I was, then not for long. The meetings were always indoors.”

“So you were never outside long enough for a burn to develop…” he murmured more to himself than to the general. “You probably shouldn’t go out running or swimming for a while…”

“I’m not going _anywhere_ , Lieutenant…” the general said in what could not be considered anything less than a whine.

Mitaka sighed and glanced at the blisters upon his legs in slight disgust, but mostly worry.

“Does it itch, Sir?”

“ _Yes...”_ came the strained response. “Though I hazard a guess that indulging would cause my condition to worsen?”

“I’m afraid so, sir…and if any more of the blisters break, not only will it be painful it will also damage the skin and nerves to the point of scarring.” Mitaka looked to the side and saw the door to the bathroom.

No doubt there would be a first aid kit there.

He quickly rummaged through the cabinets there and found a white box with the medical symbol upon it. Snatching it, he searched through the contents and was disappointed to find that while there were bacta patches and small packets of the gel, there otherwise was nothing. Mitaka knew that even if he were to take from all the bathrooms, including his own, there still would not be enough. There was, however, an anesthetic injection.

“Sir, I just took stock, and we may have a problem.” Mitaka said, reentering the bedroom. Hux groaned as he finally turned his head to look at him. It seemed even _that_ was painful for him.

“While we do have a painkiller to help with the reaction, we don’t have enough bacta to treat this properly. Perhaps only one suitable dose to the entire surface, but not enough to re-administer the appropriate amount of times before completely healed. I suppose we could wait for it to heal after one dose, but that would require double the amount of bed-rest.”

“Absolutely _not_ , Lieutenant.” The general admonished. “As you have pointed out about yourself before this leave, I will not give myself an excuse to become _lazy_.”

“Sir, with all due respect, this is required for your health, not by choice.” Mitaka sighed, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. “I am willing to go to Theed to get medicine. I was already thinking about going there, anyway.”

The general eyed the syringe in his hand and seemed to be thinking about something. Mitaka moved towards him and was about to stab his thigh when a very red hand gripped his wrist.

“You do know where injections are best given, Lieutenant?” he asked.

“I administered a few to the thighs during simulations at the academy,” Mitaka responded.

“that’s for the field, its painful, and I am already in enough pain, Lieutenant.” The general removed his hand and looked at him expectantly. Mitaka stared at the syringe in between his fingers.

“Sir, I do not quite…”

“I am asking you to inject that in my arse.”

“S-Sir!?”

“It is the least painful place to do so because of the excess fat available, which is where you should aim for proper absorption.”

“Sir, I…” He stopped.

_Yes, sir, I think that’s wrong because it would be better in the thigh. Yes, I should_ absolutely _tell a temperamental general that I think he is being obtuse._

“I would feel more comfortable if I just-”

“Who’s comfort is priority here!?” Hux snapped. “My agony or your embarrassment!?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, you’re right! I was being idiotic,” Mitaka pacified.

“More like a blushing teenager! Are you not a mature adult!?”

“I’m sorry, Sir!”

“And stop saying Sir! I hear, ‘Sir,’ I look up and expect to see an officer ready to give a _report_ on the _ventral canons_ , not a man who is about to take off my _briefs_!”

“But that would suggest that you’ll start calling me Mitaka, and you still call me Lieutenant!” Mitaka reasoned.

“Well, I am starting now, Mitaka! Now do as I ordered you to and just stab my arse!”

_This is so wrong on a number of levels…_

Mitaka bit his lip and attempted to keep a straight face as his eyes went to his hips and waist. He set aside the kit and gently coaxed him to turn over. The general hissed in pain, but they managed to get him on his stomach.

“At least your torso, back, and upper thighs were spared, Si-” he stopped, remembering what the general had told him.

“Erm-how shall I address you, then?”

“Hux will do fine. Now pull them down about halfway, Mitaka.”

He nodded and did so.

_This is too strange…no, strange didn’t even cover it. This is just plain ridiculous._

“Now, go to the upper right side and grab about three decimeters of flesh and fat between your fingers.”

Mitaka froze and blinked a couple of times before clearing his throat.

“Sir, just to specify, you _are_ telling me to pinch your Gluteus Maximus?”

“Yes, and what did I say about using the word ‘sir’?”

“I apologize…”

Mitaka steeled himself before doing as Hux asked, going for the upper right side.

“That’s too high. Lower.” Hux commanded.

“Sir- Hux, I really think I should just-”

“Are you hard of hearing, Mitaka?” Hux growled impatiently. “ _Lower_.”

The lieutenant once more gathered his courage and squashed his embarrassment. He went lower so that he got a fleshier part.

“Good. Now carefully inject the painkillers.”

Mitaka swallowed and forced himself to do the deed. When the syringe was empty, he was careful when removing the needle. As soon as he was finished, he was quick to back away and give the man space. Hux took his briefs in one hand and righted them with a groan.

“You are officially promoted to Major, Mitaka,” Hux breathed out with a sigh. The drugs were fast-acting, so if injected properly the effects would start in a matter of a couple minutes. So far, they only succeeded in making Hux’s tense body relax.

“What? Really?” His face turned hopeful.

“No. Whatever is said or done on this vacation shall not and will not affect your career, remember?”

Mitaka frowned.

_Is that a serious attempt at humor? Nerfherder._

“How do you feel, Hux?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Rather light headed…in fact, I feel wonderful…” Hux’s voice slurred by the end of his speech. Mitaka let out an exhausted sigh of relief.

“Well, since you feel alright, I suppose this will be the least painful time to give you a cold bath.”

“Will you join me?” Hux asked eagerly. Mitaka stared.

“ _Excuse me_?”

“Are you going to join me in the bath?” Hux repeated, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“No, Hux.”

Mitaka took him around the waist, as to not irritate the burn and helped him off the bed. He struggled under his weight, but Hux steadied them by grabbing onto the nightstand.

“Oh…well you took off my briefs so I assumed you were interested…” he spoke quietly.

“Hux, I lowered them to give you an injection. Not to fraternize.”

“Pity…” he murmured, sounding disappointed.

_He is drugged. This is the drug talking._

“Ok,” Mitaka said, assisting Hux as they stumbled into the large bathroom. “I’m going to set you on the edge of the bath while I fill it. Why don’t you try taking your briefs off?”

Hux started giggling, and Mitaka decided that was something that Hux should _not_ do. It just didn’t fit his personality at _all._ He placed Hux on the flat marble surface around the basin of the tub, which could hold more than three people.

“When I imagined you seeing myself naked, this is not what I envisioned, Mitaka…”

“Hux, please just focus on the task at hand?”

“Foc-us…” Hux murmured before going into another fit of giggles. Mitaka prayed to the stars above that he could get through the day. When the water level in the tub was approximately the right amount without the displacement caused by Hux’s body to make it overflow, he switched the water off. Absentmindedly, he reached towards Hux without looking.

“Getting bold, Mitaka…”

He turned his head and immediately retreated. His hand was on one of Hux’s pectorals, fingers over his nipple. Mitaka jerked his hand away and Hux laughed. Mitaka felt his face go warm as a blush came over his face.

“Oh, poor Mitaka, blushing like a virgin….” Hux teased. “Are you a virgin, Taka?”

Mitaka swallowed hard at the question.

“That’s…that’s none of your concern- careful!”

Hux was teetering from where he sat, dangerously leaning to one side. Mitaka leaned forward and managed an arm around Hux’s waist to steady him. Hux seemed to think something else was happening, because a warm hand grabbed Mitaka’s hair and slammed their lips together.

Mitaka’s eyes widened impossibly and his entire body sat rigidly.

_This is not happening._

“Hux, you’re dru-”

With that, he was silenced by a tongue wrestling though his lips. In that moment Mitaka could only do the only thing he could think of.

He placed a hand to the center of Hux’s chest and shoved him into the bathwater.

As soon as he was disconnected from Hux, Mitaka got up and backed away from the tub, willing himself to breathe and calm down. He was still in shock by the entire ordeal, and prayed that Hux would not remember this. He didn’t care about the oath at that moment; fraternization was out of the question. No, it wasn’t banned, but it was _discouraged_. Mitaka also had high reservations about taking advantage, especially in cases such as this.

_If he knew what he was doing,_ maybe _I would consider this…_

“ _Mitaka,”_ called a sultry voice. Mitaka didn’t want to look. He did so anyway. Hux’s chin was on the side of the bath, his arms in front of his face they covered everything below his eyes, which were practically screaming seductive sexuality.

“My ventral cannon is hot for your virginity…”

“I don’t have to help you, General Hux!” Mitaka exploded, his nerves officially breaking. “I could very well leave you to suffer, yet I am bending over backwards to make sure you are intact!”

“I’d _gladly_ bend you over-”

“I. Am. _Leaving_ ,” Mitaka snarled. He had enough. He didn’t care that Hux was drugged up and probably didn’t know what he was talking about. The stress that had piled up over the course two days had made his patience wear thin. who knew what would happen after _three weeks?_

He grabbed a bundle from Hux’s bag, finding 20,000 Republic credits inside along with the fake IDs. He tossed Hux’s onto the bed and kept his.

“Where are you going?” Hux called from the bathroom. His voice had changed to one of slight panic. Mitaka’s anger abated slightly at the sound, but not enough to stay.

“Theed,” He snapped. “We need more bacta.”

And with that, he stormed out into the hall and back into his own room where he changed. As soon as he had groomed himself to a presentable state, he was quick to leave the house and property by boat.

Once he was on the shuttle to Theed, he began to have second thoughts about leaving. Once in Theed, he _knew_ he made a mistake. He had left a sick man in a bathtub _alone_ in a large property. If anything happened…

Mitaka swallowed and forced himself to continue. If he turned back now, the trip would eb a waste of credits and time, and he wouldn’t even succeed in achieving his intent on leaving in the first place. No, it was better to just go to the eastern market, get the bacta, get on a shuttle, and get back to Varykino before the effects of the drug wore off. Perhaps he would not remember if that was the case.

_Wishful thinking, and you know it._

He ignored his inner voice and left the shuttle as soon as it stopped moving. He then was stuck with the realization that he didn’t know where he was going. He saw a few Gungans warbling to each other animatedly. They were talking so fast that he could barely understand them. Regardless, he needed directions. They probably knew the area.

“Excuse me, sirs and madams,” Mitaka called, walking in their direction. All eight eyes went to him and their talking ceased.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I’m afraid I am not quite sure how to get to the Eastern Market. Do you know the safest route there?”

“Oh, mesa know dat!” one in the back of the group said. It stepped forward and pointed down a street. “Justa keep going dat-a-way and when you get to da fountain with da Naberrie crest, go east!”

“Yousa should keep off Irkan Street. Dat place bombad!” another chirped. Mitaka bowed slightly, remembering how the previous Gungan he came in contact with did so before leaving.

“Thank you ever so much,” he said graciously, before starting on his way. True to the Gungan’s word, the street lead straight to a square with a fountain in the middle. He didn’t have to wonder about if the seal upon the basin was the crest or not, since it had the name carved in bold letters upon the stone.

_This must be the center of the inhabited city, not including the chancellery and the palace._

 He was quick to determine east from his field training and avoided the street mentioned. All at once he was met with the bustling life of the local trade with life bursting forth from the inhabitants buying and selling there. People bantered, argued, and heckled over prices. Games and betting pools were shouted over the gambling tables. The smell of cooking food, leather, and perfume wafted through the air and masked the sweat of passing people. The energy was high, and so were the voices.

Mitaka had been wandering though the market, feeling more and more anxious with every passing minute. The people, the noise, the sights, the sounds, the smells, the energy, it was bordering on too much. He felt dizzy, nauseous, and the world was narrowing, closing in-

“Phel?” 

Mitaka focused on the voice calling him, confused.

_No knows me by that name except my sisters and-_

“Ashara?”

* * *

 

_ Hux _

 

_Well that went_ swell. _Well_ done, _Armitage._

As soon as he heard Mitaka leave the house, he broke from the act and slumped against the marble, the cold water sloshing over his naked body.

_That was by far the stupidest decision I have ever made on a number of levels._

His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his lips once again, cursing himself as he did so. He didn’t understand why the taste of his lieutenant lingered on his lips. It never did before in his trysts. Perhaps it is simply haunting him because he had been so depraved for so long.

_Yes. That was precisely it. I have not indulged on that front in nearly...stars, has it really been seven years?_

Indeed, it had. There was no time, nor energy available to pursue anyone, much less find someone who wouldn’t talk amongst rank, boasting of having a liaison with the stiff _General Hux_ who never socialized. That, and there was no one who piqued his interest in that regard. The people on his staff were professional and thus not attractive. The only one whom he could pursue as an equal was _Kylo Ren_ and who knew _what_ was under that garb and bucket. That and his maturity was atrocious.

_It would be like fucking a twelve-year-old._

Hux shuddered at the thought and though of more important things.

_He is not averse to men, but he_ is _averse to taking advantage of a situation. Admirable, but in this case frustrating._

Hux tapped his fingers against the basin, thankful that the painkillers worked wonders in not making him feel pain. In fact, he didn’t feel anything. He was completely numb. He didn’t even feel a chill from the water. No doubt, however, he would have to get out at some point to avoid lowering his body temperature too much. And he supposed he could do that by himself, since Mitaka was gone.

Mitaka just _left_. His actions were ruled by his anger and frustration, no doubt. Emotion, rather than reason. Hux had never personally seen Mitaka angry. Not even once. Normally he was either perfectly at ease, or a nervous wreck.

But he was passionate about some things, such as his personal beliefs and a very solidified sense of morality. He was quiet and reserved, preferring smaller numbers of people rather than a large group. He liked solidarity and privacy, which for some reason was cause for grief of an acute kind.

_This is all well and fine to know, but this doesn’t tell me anything that may reveal intent. Not even his outbursts of emotion._

His previous thoughts on Mitaka re-established themselves.

_What if he has no pretense?_

_What if this actually was Mitaka in the truest form?_

_What if he truly is as one first thinks him: harmless?_

_Impossible._

Harmless men _didn’t_ survive the Academy. They were broken and they were trained to stamp any sentiment and emotion out. They were tossed into the assembly line of soldiers to be regulated as a fighting and intelligence force. They were institutionalized. They were…

Hux realized he was no longer thinking about Mitaka; he was thinking about himself. That was disheartening as well as depressing. To think himself institutionalized and essentially what the order wanted out of it’s officers down to the very mindset and thinking patterns, it somehow made him feel less human.

_Have I been a machine this entire time?_

He tried to collect his thoughts and find a reasonable instance where he had ever done something for himself and himself only. He vowed to do as was necessary for his personal interests.

He had run the farthest, fought the hardest, trained to be the strongest, and strategized to be the smartest, all for _what_? To be the best.

_But what was that worth?_

He was the highest ranking general in the First Order. He was the engineer who remodeled the Star-Destroyers. He had the respect and esteem of his subordinates. He had regard from Supreme Leader Snoke.

He had all he could ever wanted in life. If he told himself as a child that this was where he was going to be, then he would’ve been satisfied. But now, something was wrong. There was something amiss in the picture. But what was it?

Power? Control? Money? Fame? Esteem? Respect?

Those he all had. Those were what he worked for his entire life.

_But was it ever for you? Or was it all in the name of the First Order?_

Hux swallowed hard and placed his head on his burnt knees, still feeling nothing.

Yes…it all was for the First Order. He made himself the perfect leader for the First Order. He had climbed his way to power for the First Order. He killed three boys in school to take out the weak, the sentimental, the deceitful, for the First Order. He had separated himself from everyone else to stay strong for the First Order. He had done all this, sacrificed everything for the First Order.

If it was all taken away, what would he have left?

_Nothing._

Every one of his achievements would account to him becoming a broken man who would sing of the good old days of his power and control. That was hardly a life worth anything.

_Did father ever feel like this? That perhaps his deeds were not worth it in the long run? NO._

he shook his head ferociously and stood in the bath, getting out and unplugging the drain as he went.

_This is the painkillers messing with my mood and that is that. I have no reason to feel sorry for myself or think my father. This is self deprecating and I must end this before it gets out of hand._

He stared at himself in the mirror, hating the dark circles under his eyes that permeated through the redness of his skin. It was obvious he was exhausted and desperate for sleep.

_Yes. Just sleep this off._

He made a move towards the bed, but then stopped.

Bacta.

Might as well put on bacta and bandages before he could start feeling his burns again. He stared down at the packets gathered and tore one open, smearing it over his skin. He tried to ignore the sizzling pain that awakened at the contact and began wrapping it up with a bandage, a scowl making its way onto his lips.

As Hux worked, he couldn’t help but wonder if Mitaka would’ve been careful with him. perhaps he wouldn’t feel pain from this if Mitaka was doing it. He was _harmless_ , after all.

_Harmless, tiny, emotional Mitaka. No one would_ ever _suspect_ him _should he wish to do away with him! Stars, perhaps that was why he was- No. If he wished for Hux’s death, he would have done it already. And what was there to gain from killing him? He couldn’t take his place. Mitaka was far too low._

Hux continued his work with an exhaustedly absent mind, thoughts running around his head and making him dizzy. His mind kept confusing things, losing track, mixing facts with opinions and soon became a jumbled mess of nonsense.

Hux sighed as he finished adhering the last bacta bandage to his body.

_This was a mistake…I should never have come here._

He returned to the bed and climbed in, feeling his body begin to complain once more. He yearned for his health to be back to what it was. Did he even recall what it was like to not feel anything wrong with his body? He couldn’t. It was strange how that worked. Now, how to combat that? His body screamed for sleep.

_Yes. Sleep. Rest. Mitaka will return with bacta and your burns will be healed perhaps halfway by then._

He obeyed this thought and closed his eyes with contentment, sure that he would soon be able to see that face again, and perhaps have another one of those meals that he made so well.

Hux never dreamed. If he ever did, then he supposed he never remembered them.

He supposed that was partially why when he found himself on some snowy planet covered in mountains, he was taken aback. He at first thought he had somehow gone there in his sleep, but that was ridiculous. He had never been there before, yet he knew exactly where he was going. He was running with troops behind him with a sense of urgency.

He was angry. He was sad. He was scared. Where these emotions came from he didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to follow the tracker that was in Lord Ren’s belt. The Supreme Leader told him to.

_Leave the base at once and come to me with Kylo Ren. It is time to complete his training…_

They found him in a heap in the snow covered in blood and smoking cloth. Hux ordered for a stretcher as a medic checked his vitals. Lord Ren was alive, but only just so. If they didn’t hurry, he would surely die, and the Supreme Leader would no doubt take Hux’s as punishment.

But that was not why he was terrified. He was scared that another was almost or already gone. The planet’s death was secondary to the possibility of another.

_Stars above me, take it all. Take my work, my power, my ship, my very life. Take it all. But don’t take-_

When he opened his eyes again, it was darker than before. Hux attempted to sit up but found that his body screamed in agony at the smallest movement. Regardless, he turned his head towards the window. The sky was orange and light flooded one side of the room with a fiery glow that was supposed to be warm and delightful with the closing of yet another day.

Hux’s blood went cold and dread filled him as he stared at the bathroom counter where the empty bacta packets were left and heard nothing but the silence in the household.

Mitaka had not retuned.

 


	6. VI

_ Mitaka _

 

True to his sight, Ashara stood before him in all her heavily pregnant glory. However, instead of seeming tired from the day’s wears, her entire face was strewn with concern. She made her way through the crowd flawlessly, pushing people aside as she went.

“Phel, you’re pale…are you alright?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder once she reached him. Mitaka shook his head to clear it.

“I need to…” he trailed off pitifully.

“Come with me.” Her hand wove into his and she pulled him along, dragging him into a mostly empty square. She kept walking until there wasn’t anyone within earshot. By then, the color had begun to return to his face, and his tunnel vision faded.

“It has been a while since I have been planet-side…” he admitted after thanking her. Ashara sighed and patted his arm.

“I understand,” she consolingly. “It’s hard to go back to normal life…even if it’s only leave.”

“I just didn’t expect it to be so…”

“Shocking?” she offered.

“Terrifying.”

She nodded.

“I’m guessing you have a reason to be in such a busy part of town?” she asked. “I mean, I know you said you were here on pleasure visit. But that doesn’t mean go overboard with activity you can’t handle.”

Here Mitaka paused, unsure what to say.

On one hand, Hux would be angry that he conversed with anyone not necessary. On the other hand, he didn’t know what he was doing, nor did he know if he could handle the crowds again.

_If someone was with me, perhaps it would not be so horrible…someone who lives in Theed…_

“Do you remember the man who accompanied me when we first met?” Mitaka asked.

“You mean the redhead who scowled a lot?” Ashara recalled, wrinkling her nose in distaste. He resisted wincing. She probably didn’t like him because she shared his original assumption of Hux upholding the Human High Culture.

“Yes, him.”

“I remember him…” She murmured. “I was wondering why you were alone…”

“That is the problem. He is…” he fought for the right word. “Ill.”

“Ill? Ill how?”

“Sunburn.” He specified. “Well, sun _poisoning_ I should say.”

“Really?” she seemed unsurprised. “For a moment I thought he had a fever after being exposed to all the diseases here on planet versus on a safe sterile ship.”

“All personnel are required to receive vaccinations biannually,” he explained.

“Phel, you sound like a textbook,” Ashara mocked with an impish grin.

“I suppose it’s a habit, considering the company I keep.” He shrugged, returning her grin.

“Do you ever socialize on whatever ship or base you are on?” she asked, sliding her arm under his to make it seem that he was escorting her. However, her arm was strong and comforting in his, the appendage obviously the one in the lead. He was thankful.

“I talk with Thanisson…” he admitted.

“Thanisson? Is that a first name or surname?”

“Surname. We keep professionalism. Unless we are talking alone.”

“I’d call that a friend.” She led him back towards the sounds of the market, though instead of taking him straight into the fray, Ashara kept to the outskirts. “Are you two close?”

“I’d say so, if we use first names.”

“I’m glad. I actually thought for some time that the Firs-” she caught herself. “That you were not allowed to have companions.”

“Not at all. We are encouraged to have compatriots and friends, but it is advised that unless marriage is an option, fraternization is discouraged.”

“What does that mean?” Ashara asked pulling him into a shop. Mitaka immediately noticed the pharmaceutical traits of the goods, and disconnected to find bacta in larger quantities than just a small packet found in first aid boxes.

“I mean that unless you plan to marry the person and bear children with them, you cannot engage.” Mitaka explained as he read the labels of some larger packets and compared it to the liter bottles of the fluid.

“Is bearing children a must?” Ashara asked, raising a brow.

“Without procreation the population would die,” he reasoned, deciding on the packets.

“As it would for any culture, Phel,” Ashara countered.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Ashara looked puzzled before realization dawned.

“You mean the military population…” she murmured quietly.

“Precisely,” Mitaka nodded, counting how many packets he should get in case there was to be any more cases of sunburn of they were not careful. He did not wish to come back to Theed with so many people and risk being lost or helpless. Neither fate was preferential.

“But what if you cannot procreate?” Ashara interrupted his counting. “What if the wife in question is barren? Or he is sterile?”

“Or perhaps a man or woman doesn’t want the other gender or anyone?” he offered as further evidence of the problems of the marriage system. “Then they cannot marry. Besides, marriage is not an affair that entails love. The purpose is money and status.”

Ashara made a face that was a mixture of disgust and sorrow.

“That sounds so depressing. How can you be happy?”

“You leave that to chance.” Mitaka could only shrug, knowing it was different for the New Republic Systems.

“Will _you_ when you get married?” Ashara pointed out, giving him an intense stare.

“I cannot.” He said bluntly. Ashara opened her mouth before closing it, nervously picking up a bandage to toss around between her hands.

“What is your plan then?” she murmured.

“To make a difference.”

“And you think the first-” She stopped, looking away. Phel sighed and looked out onto the street. No one had heard and just kept going on with their jobs, goals and lives. He shook his head silently and pulled Ashara closer to him to speak in a low voice.

“I didn’t join because I believed in it. It was simply expected of me. I can make a difference in or out of it. I can achieve my goal by being the best example I can be as a person. I don’t serve the order or any officer. That’s my day job. I consider my efforts worth it if I can change just _one_ person’s life for the better.”

“Do you believe in it what they say though?” she whispered back in kind.

“I believe there can be peace, but I don’t know if we are going about it, is the right way.”

“Can’t you suggest anything?”

“No. I don’t have that power. I just do as I am ordered to.” Mitaka was willing to admit that he didn’t have any sort of power or control of any of the events that happen in the First Order. He was fully aware of how helpless he was, but that didn’t seem to satisfy anyone else. Especially with how Ashara looked ready to argue.

“But-”

“Ashara, I understand you are not used to the way my world works, and I don’t expect you to,” Mitaka interrupted. “However, I am going to ask you to trust me when I say that everything will be alright in the end.”

“How can you say that so _casually_?” she snapped.

“Because no matter how horrible the future might seem, the galaxy will always fix itself, eventually. It’s in its nature, I think,” he responded calmly, patiently.

“Phel…” Ashara sighed. “That’s not good enough for people like me who worry about what…may happen.”

“I know, Ashara. Maybe you don’t feel it now, but perhaps later.” He looked down at her distended womb and motioned towards it. “Think of your children as a beacon of hope. No matter what happens there will always be new life.”

“Phel, it’s _because_ of my child I worry!” she hissed. “I didn’t want to put you in this position but damn it, I cannot stop myself! _Is the First Order going to be the next Empire and enslave us all?”_

Mitaka broke away from Ashara sharply and stared at her with wide, shocked eyes.

“Whatever gave you that idea?” he cried.

“Your kind were born from the Empire, Phel! It makes sense that you-”

“Please, not now.” He begged, looking around wildly. “I will say later.”

“When is later?” she shot back. “After you’ve won? After I and my baby are in chains?”

“How about after I buy the bacta and bandages and go where no one can hear us so I can be honest?” Mitaka offered, his expression turning exasperated.

Ashara’s angered aura died and she bit her lip as a blush came to her complexion.

“Oh…” she uttered weakly. Mitaka nodded knowingly before paying for his items, Ashara tailing him. Once they were finished, they set out once more. They weaved through the crowd here and there, but with Ashara’s arm around his Phel felt rooted and centered instead of all over the square. Once they reached an empty area, Ashara looked to him expectantly. Mitaka knew he could not avoid this.

“I don’t know what the Order will do. It isn’t likely that the First Order will be the Empire. We learned from their mistakes and I would like to believe we wouldn’t do anything horrible.”

“But that man you were with. Phel, he is just like the rest of what the Order is!” Ashara insisted. Mitaka sighed.

“He is merely uncomfortable around pregnant women. He has high respect for all species.” He said, remembering his own assumption.

“What?” Ashara looked over his face suspiciously. “You are sure that he wasn’t lying to you when he said that?”

“If there is one thing I can assure you, it’s that he was not lying.”

She didn’t look convinced, but dropped that particular issue. She continued her tirade, however.

“Phel, that man is only proof that the order is what everyone says it is.”

“He hasn’t done anything to you, Ashara!” Phel exclaimed. “Are you so quick to judge us as a whole group when we are talking of something as complex as individual humans? That because I am First Order, I am automatically evil and wish death upon the galaxy?”

“You are the exception-”

“No, Ashara. That is reverse prejudice. I used to believe the propaganda told to my people to be singular to my culture’s attempt at order, but it seems the New Republic is no different in that regard.”

Ashara gulped hard and softened her gaze, looking down at her hands.

“Phel, I am afraid that the First Order will destroy everything that the New Republic has rebuilt.”

“Perhaps it will be destroyed, perhaps it won’t,” Mitaka responded, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. “The truth is simple, Ashara: if the galaxy is knocked out of balance, an equal force will come back to right it again. It’s happened so many times over history, how can this time be so different?”

Ashara shook her head with a sigh, taking Mitaka’s hand into hers.

“Phel, you can’t stop me from worrying,” she said gloomily.

“I know,” He murmured sadly. He could speak reassurances and attempt to change her perspective until he ran out of words to say, but nothing would change what was obvious. She was a mother with a child on the way in a time of uncertainty. Uncertainty was the seed for fear, because most terror came from the unknown.

_How interesting, then, that the First Order came from the Outer Rim, and the Unknown Regions…and we cause so much fear for the rest of the Galaxy…_

“But at least I gave you something to think about.” Mitaka shrugged, intertwining their arms once more. Ashara forced a smile.

“I’m sorry the subject went dark, Phel. I just…I couldn’t keep my questions in anymore.”

“I understand, and it’s alright,” he reassured. “Anyone would be inquisitive.”

“Agree to forget?” she asked timidly.

“Agreed,” he promised with a smile, which she returned wholeheartedly.

“Do you need anything else for him?” she asked, successfully changing the topic.

“We originally planned to only stay a few days, but that changed suddenly and now we are staying longer. It seems we will need some essentials such as more clothes.”

Ashara’s look suddenly became positively predatory and her grip on his arm became a steel cage.  Mitaka wished to run for the nearest transport with his tail between his legs.

To say she went overboard was an understatement. Mitaka never went shopping with his sisters unless it was for their wedding or a new baby. Their budget was always limited, so they always stayed within a reasonable realm of purchasing only what was needed before leaving.

_Ashara,_ on the other hand, was as extravagant in shopping for clothing as Mitaka’s mother was with cooking and kitchens. Perhaps more so than his mother, since Ashara was used to the finest and most luxurious fashion tastes, as was the Nabooian tradition to have complex designs with superfluous grandeur. Mitaka _doubted_ Hux would ever wear anything like the lavender slit sleeved shirt with embellished lace and frills that Ashara held up with eagerness.

“But all you seem to have is grey, black, and white! You need color and character!” she insisted.

He managed to convince her that simple and orderly would have to do with perhaps a _little_ bit of stateliness. She still longingly looked towards the dress gowns for men whenever she could, and he indulged her a few times by trying them on, if only to make her happy. He was not the one for such things, though he did admit a few times the cut or color was a nice change from the regular plain and smart uniforms he was used to wearing.

And so, as the sun started to set over the planet, Mitaka felt dread gnaw at his stomach.

_I have been gone all day and left the general in a compromised state. He probably hasn’t eaten anything, the pain medications have long since worn off, and no doubt he will be angry once I return…_

“I wouldn’t worry, Phel.” Ashara said as she led him back to the shuttle with his parcels. “You have the bacta in your hands. He _needs_ you to stay.”

“I’m not going to threaten my superior officer.” Mitaka rolled his eyes. Ashara giggled.

“It’s not threatening. It’s just initiative to treat you better.” She paused at the shuttle station. “Phel, before you leave…I want you to have dinner with my husband and brother.”

“I have to get back to Hu- him,” he corrected. Hux’s name was well known in both the First Order as well as the New Republic. Though for very, _very_ different reasons.

“No, not tonight!” she assured, her eyes regarding him. Mitaka knew her to have caught his mistake, but she made no comment. He knew she would later, however.

“I meant before you go back abroad. And if…he is as you said, he may come too…if he wishes.”

“That’s very kind of you, Ashara. You can expect me, to be sure. Although, I will have to discuss what he plans to do.”

“You do that, Phel,” she urged, handing him a private comlink. “Take care. If you need anything else, don’t hesitate.”

Mitaka took it and thanked her, though internally he was deciding if he should keep it. If it had a tracking device or recorder…

_No_. _That is unlikely. But it seems pointless to simply throw it out when I can just take it apart and search myself. Besides, she is a civilian…and I am just being paranoid with being around Hux so much._

They parted ways with a kiss to the cheek and a friendly wave. Once he was on the transport and on his way, he could feel any sort of happiness and content drain from his body with every second, knowing it was a second closer to no doubt an extremely agitated general. Hux would no doubt be furious, and Mitaka knew what the general was like when he was angry.

He was a good leader, and didn’t let his emotions get the better of him often. However, Kylo Ren always was able to make him livid, and it showed in his prickly attitude and he even gave way to unreasonable outbursts. Luckily, the latter was a rarity and he always apologized afterwards, but Mitaka still wanted to avoid them at all costs.

It didn’t seem that was possible for today, however.

By the time he returned to the house, the sun was just barely over the horizon line of the trees, and bathed the entire lake country in bright orange and red light. He was quick to rush into his room and drop off his personals, including the now deemed safe comlink. He wasted no time to get to Hux’s room, hurrying to stop himself from allowing any doubt or nervous tension to allow cowardice. He was about to knock when a voice from the other side admitted him. That was enough for Mitaka to pause. It hardly sounded like Hux, but he knew it to be so nevertheless. It was deep, dark, and malicious.

_You have done it now, Mitaka._

Mitaka opened the door and stepped inside with the bacta and bandages in his arms. Hux lay upon the sheets, his facial features calm and collected, but his eyes were in a raging storm that was desperate to burst free from its confinement.

 “You left,” Hux said, once more using that murderous tone.

“I did,” Mitaka admitted. “To get bacta and bandages.”

He placed the items in question on the unoccupied space of the bed by Hux’s feet. Hux did not move.

“You left me,” he repeated. “In a _bathtub._ ”

“I…I did not leave in a bathtub.” It was perhaps misplaced to try for humor to diffuse the situation, but he saw no other option. Hux’s eyes narrowed.

“Mitaka, my tolerance for humor is rather short fused at the moment so one more smart comment, and you will see yourself dangled over the back balcony _upside down_ and _naked.”_ He snarled back.

“Y-yes sir. But you-”

“Whatever I said or did that upset you, I apologize.” Hux cut off. “Regardless, a great many things could have gone wrong with you disappearing like you did.”

“I said I was going to Theed!” Mitaka cried.

“I could have drowned in the tub! I could have injured myself further!”

“I was angry-“

“Yes, angry!” Hux was now on a rampage. “Do you know how many people get hurt because their emotions compromise their decisions!? Your anger could have caused an accident to yourself! You could have been hurt! You could have been killed! How could you be so foolish!?”

“I…”

Mitaka stopped, staring down at his feet while Hux kept going.

“…-urthermore, you could have been walking down the street, blinded by your rage when some spice dealer decided to rob or kill you! I cannot believe _you_ , who had lived your adolescence in Khubeaie, could be so blind!”

“I’m sorry, Sir…” Mitaka murmured to the floor. Hux shook his head and turned his body to face the wall.

“This sort of carelessness is _exactly_ why you are not a general,” he muttered under his breath.

In an instant, Mitaka’s head snapped up with a glare to match his mood.

“Hux!” Mitaka cried in a mix of disbelief and anger. “That was below the belt, even for you as my superior!”

“Pardon me if I am _callous_. I only could’ve died in the bathtub, hardly an admirable death after such a career as mine,” Hux snapped back sarcastically, still turned away.

“I apologized!”

“Yes, because an _apology_ fixes everything.”

Mitaka balled his fists and grit his teeth angrily.

“With all due respect, _Sir_ , but what _exactly_ could have _fixed_ it other than a heartfelt apology?” he accused.

“Mitaka, we are not on _The Finalizer_ , and I have told you to use my name.” Hux rolled over once more, groaning slightly, but that did not make his gaze seem any less serious. “You can atone by ensuring a prompt recovery though attentive care, don’t you think?”

Mitaka sneered, which made Hux’s eyes widen and his expression to turn almost frightened. Mitaka knew sneering was not something he normally did, but he officially could not keep quiet any more.

“You want to know what I think, Hux?” he asked in a fake sweet tone. “I think your pride is damaged because you didn’t know something so simple as sun lotion or how to take care of yourself. Instead of admitting you made a mistake, you attack my pride in retaliation.”

He stood from his seat and towered over Hux, who shrank back at the sudden motion.

“ _You want to know what I think_? I think you are doing this on purpose. This is all a game to you: see how far you will push before I break. If Kylo Ren couldn’t do it, then perhaps you should give an attempt? Well, let me respond with this: the more you push me and throw me down, the more it pushes and throws me closer to _transferal._ The other High Command members on other ships are more than willing to take officers from your personal pickings. And yes, I shall exploit the fact of Kylo Ren’s abuse _and_ yours as an excuse.”

He spun on his heel and was about to march out of the room with every intention of packing his bag and staying with Ashara for the rest of the three-week leave when Hux’s voice stopped him.

“I was 27 when I first saw the sun.”

Mitaka’s anger simmered down enough to allow curiosity, but not enough to turn around. That didn’t stop Hux.

“Yes, I had seen the occasional patch of sky on one of the rare days it didn’t rain on Arkanis, but I didn’t actually see it until I left home for the last time. It was a sunrise over the ocean…and in that one moment, I thought I had gone blind, there was so much light.”

Mitaka closed his eyes as each word embraced him, each breath taken seeping the rage out of his body. Oxygen and peace in, anger and carbon dioxide out. In and out. In and out. Hux’s words soothing his lost temper, the catalyst of his anger now becoming its salvation. When it was gone, he slowly turned his head to gaze at Hux.

Hux wasn’t looking at him. He was staring up at the ceiling.

“It was a summit on Lothal, I believe. My first. I was invited by the Lieutenant General to join him as his PA. What I didn’t know was that he was training me to take his place when he retired. I had his job mere weeks later.”

Mitaka sighed and returned to the chair, a pensive look on his face. In turn, Hux moved his head to regard him properly.

“I hated the sight of it,” he chuckled. “To be barred from something so wonderfully brilliant just made me so angry that I was disgusted by the sight of it. And now it has retaliated back,” he waved his hand over his bandages.

Mitaka knew this bit of information to be the very first personal input that Hux had ever given him. One could argue that his opinion of species was personal, but somehow Mitaka felt that was hardly something in comparison to this. This was incomprehensible, almost. Why was he telling him, a subordinate, this? Was he actually afraid that he would leave?

“It was mere ignorance, Sir. You were not aware,” Mitaka offered as comfort. Hux merely shook his head in dismissal.

“Mere ignorance? Ignorance is a general’s downfall. Honestly, Mitaka, I would sooner find a use-” he stopped. Mitaka watched his face as thoughts seemed to fly through his head and realization abruptly burst from his eyes.

“Get my datapad, _now.”_

At the sound of the order, Mitaka was on his feet and retrieving the demanded pad. Once it was in arm’s reach, Hux snatched it and began typing furiously.

“Sir?” Mitaka tried. Hux shushed him, and only continued in his work. Once he was satisfied a few minutes later, he tossed the pad aside on the bed with a curious smile on his face.

“I suppose I’ll have to thank you in some way later,” he said with contentment.

“How so?”

“Later. For now, I think it is proper to presume we need to change the bandages?”

* * *

_ Hux _

 

At Mitaka’s offering of food, Hux quickly declined ardently, regardless of not eating all day.

“Believe it or not, I am rather repulsed by the thought of food at the present moment,” he admitted, lying back on the bed once Mitaka had finished with the bandages.

True to his previous musings, Mitaka _was_ gentler than Hux when administering to wounds. His small but supple hands were careful and extremely soft in their gestures. Comfort bubbled up from the recesses of Hux’s conscience, and he didn’t repress it. Instead he allowed it to fill him, and a new feeling came forth: gratitude.

“Regardless of my disapproval of your actions, Mitaka…” Hux began, stopping the lieutenant from leaving the room with a hand to his arm. Mitaka faced him with absolute attention with a touch of confusion.

“I…I _do_ appreciate that you got medical supplies…” he managed, apologies not being his strength, as of he not often made them. He was quiet in thought for a second before adding ,“and that you returned safely.”

Mitaka gave a small gasp in surprise, but schooled his features nevertheless.

“It was what had to be done,” he said.

“Let me finish, Mitaka.”

The silence that followed was agonizing for both men; one for impatience of what was to be said, the other in stumbling over _what_ to say.

“I…I apologize for my conduct earlier,” Hux said at last. “It was hardly appropriate and I…I shudder to think of what I did.”

“Hux, you were drugged-”

“No.” Hux turned stern, the guilt tickling unpleasantly at his insides and teasing him with the truth. “Not an excuse.”

Mitaka seemed to be unwilling to fight him on this issue, for he nodded and muttered out an, “If you say so.” Hux recognized the admittance of acceptance, but knew not how to ask for forgiveness, lest the lieutenant be still angry enough to wish for transfer.

“I hope…you are willing to forget what happened?” he asked. He knew this was a horrible attempt, but Mitaka once more surprised Hux by looking at him with a small smile in the corner of his lips.

“You do not ask for forgiveness often, do you, Hux?” he asked, a slight tease in his voice. Regardless of the shock of Mitaka’s gall to even think of joking with his general, Hux could not help the small smile of his own lips.

“No, I’m afraid not, Mitaka. More often than not, I avoid situations that should cause for the necessity of such action.”

Mitaka nodded and agreed to forget it. He seemed more than willing to get past the disagreement, and Hux was not objecting to such eagerness. He could hardly contain his relief.

Mitaka seemed to have taken this as initiative to leave, and once more tried to do so. However, Hux grabbed his arm in an attempt to stop him. It worked.

“Mitaka, I must ask that you stay a while longer. I have some questions,” Hux said, watching as Mitaka took up a chair by the bed.

“That was a long time you were gone,” he began. “is there a reason for that?”

“I bumped into Ashara. She aided me in my task and even went the extra mile to obtain clothes for the both of us. I figured we would need them since we only prepared for just three days.”

“Very practical,” Hux commended, before allowing his trepidation of the news to show. “However, these clothes are hopefully _not_ typical of the Naboo fashion?”

“Oh, they are not.” Mitaka assured. “I made sure they were modest and simple, much to Ashara’s displeasure.”

“I’m sure.” Hux chuckled at the thought of a very displeased Ashara shoving Mitaka into a dress with as many embellishments as there were blasters in the First Order army. “I assume you did not tell her where we are staying?”

“No, I did not give way any information.” Mitaka’s eyes lightened up as though a thought passed through his conscience and he quickly spoke before Hux could continue his interrogation.

“Hux, she invited us to dine with her and her husband and brother before we go back to _The Finalizer_ ,” he revealed. “I have every intention of going, but she also invited you.”

Hux hid his surprise at this information.

“You have already said your intent to her?” he asked casually.

“I already accepted on my part, though I made no promise with yourself.”

“I will consider this carefully. Until then, _I_ will make no promise.”

“Very well…” Mitaka seemed satisfied, and perhaps a little relieved. It was apparent he was worried he would scold him on his social interactions.

_He is an independent man. If this outing was not a problem, then a simple dinner should be of little issue._

_However, while I have him here, I may as well try once more to sketch his character, since I have his attention._

“That’s all for the particulars of your outing.” Hux allowed Mitaka to relax further. “However, there are some queries that I have in regard to other happenings that have occurred prior to this.”

“Oh?” Mitaka tensed, but only just slightly so. “What inquisitions do you have of me?”

“Ones that I have been musing for a while, but cannot make out without explanation.” Hux laid back on the bedsheets. “Get comfortable, Mitaka.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Mitaka shrug one shoulder, a motion that Hux knew to be a casual sign that he already was. This was invitation enough for the general.

“I wonder, you never asked me about myself,” Hux began, telling his musings towards the ceiling.

“Excuse me?” Mitaka questioned.

“Well, I have asked of your beginnings and your family, but you never asked me of mine.”

Hux moved his head so that he was now viewing him more directly, awaiting his answer. Mitaka turned meek under his gaze.

“Oh…” he murmured. “Well, did you want me to?”

“The only thing I _want_ is for you to tell me why,” Hux replied.

“Why I didn’t ask?” Mitaka specified, to which Hux nodded once. “Oh. See, I figured that since you are a private sort of man and since I am-”

“If you say you are my subordinate,” Hux cut him off quickly. “I will not be pleased.”

Mitaka moved away in his seat in an attempt to put some distance between himself and Hux’s dreaded displeasure.

“Sir? I-I mean Hux?” he questioned once more.

“There is no uniform, no First Order, no rank here,” Hux explained with a small wave of his hand. “We are just two men in a lake house.”

“That’s what you meant by the oath?”

“Yes. Though I would have believed you more capable of configuring that sort of information yourself.” Hux made sure that his disappointment was laced in his voice, and Mitaka was no fool enough to not pick up on it. He bowed his head slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “…I suppose I am a bit nervous.”

“Around me? Rightfully so,” Hux admitted. “But you needn’t be.”

Mitaka gave him the utmost attention, most likely eager to be reassured.

“Because we are just two men in a lake house?” he asked hopefully.

“Because we are just two men in a lake house,” Hux assured, allowing his lips to widen partially into a small smile. Mitaka relaxed if just a little, before biting his lip, fighting a smile that was threatening to break free. Hux knew from the unbridled mirth and carefree light in his doe eyes that he was fighting off laughter.

“Something amusing?” Hux asked, raising a brow.

“I apologize, but it sounds like the beginning of a very bad joke,” Mitaka chuckled. “Two men in a lake house…”

Hux shook his head, though his smile did not diminish.

“Not as hilarious as your earlier quip on Lord Ren and his celibacy,” he said.

“I assure you, Hux, that I only jested.” Mitaka replied, shyly looking to the side. “I do not actually believe him to be-“

“Oh no doubt he is!” Hux waved his hand, laughing outright. “Why else would a man of his power and connections be so bothered by such trivial matters?”

“Perhaps it is because he does not have people to do the trivial things, as you do?” Mitaka offered.

“He has his knights,” Hux dismissed.

“I have been told they are of equal standing, regardless of Kylo Ren being the Master,” Mitaka shrugged. “He cannot complain about his important things to anyone, so perhaps that is why he complains about the little things.”

Hux opened his mouth to argue, but he stopped.

_How very forgiving…_

He chuckled and gazed at Mitaka with a curiosity and admiration that took the lieutenant by obvious surprise.

“I find it very interesting that you are so inclined to think the best of everyone and do not see anyone’s fault,” Hux mused. “Even Kylo Ren, who has abused you so violently, does not deserve to be teased or laughed at.”

Mitaka blinked a couple of times before chuckling in good humored reproof.

“I deserve neither such compliment nor such censure!” he laughed. “Yes, I try to think the best of people, but I _can_ see fault as much as the next person. And while I do not particularly _like_ Kylo Ren, I do believe it is only half because he is so willing to fall into vicious outbursts that harm others. The other half is because I do not understand him. And until I do, I shall not make any serious assumptions about his character.”

“So you _can_ tease and laugh at someone else’s follies?”

“As was evident by my statement in the shuttle coming here. But only if it goes no further than a tease, and not taken as actual fact. Gossip is not what I wish to be associated with.” It was obvious that Mitaka was strict on this point. Hux was pleased.

“Very wise, Mitaka. Gossip and Rumors are what make or break a reputation.”

Mitaka shifted a little, becoming almost uneasy in Hux’s presence at these words. He could not seem to meet Hux’s eyes, even as Hux moved to gaze into them. Hux’s curiosity was immediately piqued.

“Mitaka, I wonder why you are suddenly ill at ease…” Hux tilted his head. “Is something troubling you?”

Mitaka was silent, still refusing to look upon his general. After a moment of uneasy but patient silence on Hux’s part, he at long last returned his gaze to him.

“Hux I wonder if…” he faltered, but once more tried again. “I wonder if you would be offended if _I_ ask you questions. About some whisperings I heard? I hesitate not because of rank, as of you have made it clear that it has been done away with-”

Here, Hux was joyous at this small triumph.

“-but because they are of a sensitive subject…ones that I am not sure if you would be willing to speak of with openness.”

“Oh?” Hux sat up with great interest and slight dread. “What kind of whisperings?”

Mitaka swallowed before continuing.

“One speaks of your past. The other of…well, it’s more of a curiosity of mine rather than an actual rumor.”

Hux considered Mitaka for a moment, but nodded nevertheless.

“I will hear you, but whether or not I will answer is entirely to chance.”

“I understand, Sir.”

“State them both, then.”

“I have heard that your reputation precedes you…that you murdered some cadets in your academy years…”

This made Hux frown, but he gestured for Mitaka to continue as a response to his hesitance.

“…and what _your_ home life like? You took such an interest in mine that I cannot help but be curious in kind.”

Hux almost wished that never urged Mitaka to ask. Regardless, he did _not_ promise to answer. And earlier with Hux’s question, it almost sounded as though Hux _wanted_ him to ask. It was only natural for Mitaka to be curious, and take it as an invitation.

“If you are seeking validity on those claims…I did take the lives of three peers in the academy,” he admitted. “Though the reasons behind each were as varied as the person I ended. I hope you did not hope for an explanation, because I will not give it.”

Mitaka looked ready to ask more, but Hux quickly continued to cease any more demands before they could be made.

“I pause in my justification because it primarily has to do with your second inquiry upon my home life. All I can say about it, is that my treatment and life was for the sole purpose to make a high classed officer of myself. No more no less.”

They were once more silent as Hux’s words sunk in. Hux was anxious for the other’s response. Mitaka, however, was merely pensive. Hux half expected him to accuse him of monstrosity to own up to his murders, and perhaps with a touch of immaturity to speak ill of one’s parents. It would not be as though Mitaka understood; he had a loving family that was extensive beyond parenting.

“You speak as though your home life was…” Mitaka struggled with proper words, but triumphed in the end. “…without any sort of affection of any kind…”

“It did not include affection, no,” Hux confirmed. “No doubt you see me now as but a damaged person who is influenced by his ill treatment as a child as to commit crimes against others in retaliation.”

He did not hide his disappointment in this assumption, for he believed it to be true. How else would Mitaka think of him? He gave no reason to believe otherwise, and he already said he would not explain himself. The lack of justification would show a certain pride or unabashed sense of innocence. In Mitaka’s eyes, he was without guilt.

“You give me, as well as yourself little credit, Hux.”

Hux froze at his words and slowly his eyes widened to open shock as Mitaka continued.

“That would imply that you are _still_ influenced by your upbringing, but yet I somehow take from your callousness on the subject that you do not seem to care for it yourself, but rather what others would think of it, if anyone were to be honored with that knowledge. You perhaps believe that no one would understand such an upbringing, and perhaps they _wouldn’t_. I know I don’t, because mine was practically the polar opposite. Regardless, I do feel that while you were influenced at the time, you are certainly not now.”

Hux could not contain the surprise that overtook him, and felt the beginnings of something of true respect form. Underneath this respect was a twinge of a regard that was neither unwelcome nor expected. However, once this regard was formed and acknowledged, it was quickly dismissed in favor of denial. He found himself in danger of feeling something inappropriate towards a man of Mitaka’s rank and consequence, and sought to see ill of it, although it was pleasant in nature.

“I have once more been surprised by your skills in intellect, Mitaka. I take back my earlier statement upon your ability towards the oath. I do see why you were Valedictorian.”

He meant it as a compliment, but seeing Mitaka’s face fall made it obvious he made an error.

“Hux, I…” Mitaka paused to presumably think on his words. “I do appreciate the compliment in which you believe that I am worthy of such a title, and that you mean well in bestowing it, but I’m afraid I do not believe the title to be anything but a title. It is but a name that attaches to one’s reputation to sway others into believing them great when they perhaps may not be, as it is in my case, though certainly not yours.”

“That is a very severe comment upon yourself, Mitaka,” Hux cried in disbelief. “Do you believe you are less than the sum of your parts?”

“Well…I do not believe that my actions are in any way more commendable than anyone else’s.” Mitaka wrung his hands together through nervous habit.

_How strange that the subject that Mitaka fails to express most is of_ himself. _Most would clamor for the chance to speak of themselves for flattery and sycophancy…_

“My character I cannot vouch for,” Mitaka continued. “Because many have said that I should not be the critic, since I censure myself so much. I suppose it is a personal fault of mine.”

“Insecurity, perhaps?” Hux offered.

“I would not say so much insecurity,” he refuted gently. “Rather I have a high esteem for other’s actions and accomplishments, and thus do not think of my own as much. I’d much rather brag upon someone else than boast of myself. I do take pride in my accomplishments, but I would much rather talk of someone else.”

“Would you say that you are so severe sometimes that you are self-depreciating?”

“Some have commented that, yes. And for some it may be. But I however use these sentiments as my fuel to drive for self-betterment, rather than wallow in self-pity.”

“Yet, you always say ‘mere lieutenant’ or ‘I am no one of consequence,’” Hux countered.

“But I am _not_ of any consequence,” Mitaka insisted. “I am a replaceable resource. If that were not enough, I am also not of any consequence in comparison to the likes of you, Hux.”

Mitaka stood and gave one last smile to his general, strangely at ease for someone who was interrogated and disliked the conversation subject of himself.

“I will be back with ice water,” he proclaimed. “I’m sure you can use the hydration.”

_Back…he said he would be back._

And with that, he left the room in much likeness as he did on the _Finalizer_ when dismissed.  As the sun gave one last attempt to touch the walls of the master suite before falling away with the planet’s rotation, Hux could not help the thoughts on the strangely bewitching man that was his lieutenant, and didn’t stop the unbridled wonder and awe that escaped his better judgement.

_Wrong on both accounts, Mitaka…you are_ not _replaceable. And you_ are _of consequence in comparison to the likes of me._


	7. VII

_ Mitaka _

 

Hux was mostly quiet when Mitaka returned with his glass of iced water. Mitaka gave his patient a once over, made sure that the bedsheets were comfortable as they could get and made sure all was well for a decent night in. However, just as he was about to leave for the evening, Hux once more stopped him with a hand to his arm.

“Mitaka, I have to ask a favor,” He said, once Mitaka was looking at him properly. It was a shock to see that Hux was in fact _embarrassed_. Regardless, he did not wish for him to feel uncomfortable, so he schooled his expression to casualty and asked what he needed.

“I…need to use the refresher,” Hux muttered out, eyes downcast. Mitaka opened his mouth, closed it, and thought carefully how to proceed.

“What do you want me to do, Hux?” he asked calmly, not a hint of awkwardness or sarcasm to be heard.

“Help me up,” Hux commanded immediately. “I do not need assistance inside, but I need to get there.”

Mitaka nodded and allowed Hux to slide his legs over the side of the bed in his own time, the man gritting his teeth occasionally at the obvious pain he was in. Once in a sitting position, Hux guided Mitaka’s hands to his waist, one of the few places he was not burned, and placed his own two on Mitaka’s shoulders. Mitaka understood that Hux only needed to be balanced, and perhaps needed some weight off his legs as per not to strain the skin. As such, he let Hux move at his own pace.

“What if you need the refresher during the night?” Mitaka asked, once Hux was finally standing, one of his arms slung over Mitaka’s squared off shoulders.

Hux was leaning against him much in the same way as he was when he was drugged, but this time his expression was one of determination, rather than dubious giddiness.

“I don’t,” he said, voice strained.

They moved as one to the other side of the room. Once at the door, Mitaka wasted no time in opening in. Hux quickly went in and slammed the door with a hiss. He heard a groan from the inside and immediately started to wonder if his past-self back in the academy would ever believe his future-self if he said that one day he would be waiting outside the refresher for _General Hux_ to use the facilities before bed, and essentially becoming a nursing droid.

No doubt his younger self would shake his head and wonder if he had gone mad.

When Hux emerged, Mitaka quickly assisted him, making no comment nor staring. In fact, he kept his gaze away from him at all. once they returned to the bed, Hux let a huge sigh to escape him.

“Will there be anything else, Sir?” Mitaka asked.

“Hux, will do, Mitaka…” Hux murmured quietly. “remember?”

“Oh…right…” he didn’t know what else to say. Hux was strangely…subdued.

“Are you… _alright_ , Hux?” Mitaka asked.

Hux’ response was simple: he rolled over so that his back was to Mitaka and moved no more. Mitaka left the room immediately, feeling as though he had overstayed his welcome.

When he laid his head down in his own bed, he found that sleep evaded him regardless of his exhaustion from the day.

One moment Hux was full of questions, and the next he was drawn in. Perhaps he tired of social interaction like Mitaka did? Yet again, he was alone most of the day.

_That never was an excuse to you…_

No, something else was at hand. Hux was disturbed, or at the very least bothered, by something. That much was certain. However, the next question to ask was simple: should he even ask himself what was the matter; find out if he could help?

His morals mostly urged him to do so. The insistence that it was the right course of action pounded in his mind and attempted to silence any opposition. Mitaka, however, knew that when it came to people that are private such as the general, it would likely leave a rather awkward stain on what little trust and companionship that they had built.

Some people worked better when they were alone. In the same way, Hux could be one of those people who worked best when he was alone with his thoughts. Perhaps he was the sort who did better in the end when he had the time and space to sort things out.

_I suppose I could just ask what he wants…_

With this new compromise, he rolled over closed his eyes, persistently attempting to put his mind at ease enough to relax and sleep.

The sound of his beeping com interrupted his conquest, and Mitaka groaned in frustration, throwing the blankets off himself. He grumbled under his breath as he rummaged through his bag on the floor from the bed, irritated that his efforts were interfered in such an unexpected way.

Mitaka snatched his com out of his bag and was surprised to see that it was Thanisson on the other end. He looked over his shoulder, though he wasn’t sure why, and answered. The Petty Officer was in his PT gear and was sitting on a bed, no doubt in his quarters. It was safe to say he was alone.

“Aeon?” Mitaka asked.

“Phel! I tried to find you in lounge OH-87, but you weren’t there. It’s not like you to forget the days of the week. Did Lord Ren shake your head too hard this time?”

Mitaka wanted to slap his forehead. Hard. It _was_ the last working day of the week after all, the evening when he and Thanisson would meet.

“I’m sorry, I would’ve called you sooner but it completely escaped my mind,” Mitaka answered honestly. “I’m not on the _Finalizer_. I was granted leave.”

“Oh?” Thanisson perked up at this new information. “So you’re with your sisters then?”

“No, actually…I’m with General Hux.”

“On Naboo?” he cried. “ _Varykino?”_

Mitaka shrugged one shoulder sheepishly, knowing Thanisson was no doubt burning with envy.

“Yes…”

“Stars, Phel why are you there!?” Thanisson demanded, though there was no spite in his tone. Mitaka tried to make an answer but found difficulty.

_How do I respond when I barely know myself? I know Hux says it’s Protocol but…_

“I…Protocol 2-31 is what the General claims, but I’m beginning to think something more is at hand,” Mitaka answered honestly once more.

“Really? You don’t think he’s trying to-”

Mitaka cut him off before he could say anything negative, whatever it may be,

“I don’t know and I really have no desire for anyone to accuse him of anything like I have already done.”

Thanisson gaped in horror.

“Phel…you must be having a laugh with me.” Thanisson was obviously trying to pass it off as a joke, a sure sign he didn’t want to believe what he was hearing. “You would not accuse a superior…not to General Hux!”

“I’m afraid I’m not having a laugh.” Mitaka sighed, readying himself for the impending lecture from the older petty officer. “I am being entirely serious.”

“Stars, Phel!” Thanisson cursed. “What if he demotes you or throws you out an airlock when you return!?”

Mitaka attempted positivity and humor to placate his frazzled friend.

“Aeon, if he demotes me then at least I will get to see you more often. And if I’m out the airlock…well, that’s _less preferable_ , but not being tossed around by Kylo Ren would be a pleasant change.”

He laughed a little at the end, but Thanisson did not join him. In fact, he just scowled.

“Phel, please stop joking. I have enough to worry about as it is.”

“What is there to worry about?”

“How about Kylo Ren destroying an entire hangar of TIE fighters because somebody stupidly wouldn’t hold the elevator for him? Next time, he’ll come for the control center!”

“Calm yourself, Aeon,” Mitaka urged, not wanting his friend to worry over Kylo Ren’s anger.

He didn’t want _anyone_ to worry about Kylo Ren’s anger. It seemed Lord Ren was terrorizing more than the Bridge. Or perhaps he only did the bridge because Hux or himself was there. Or perhaps he did it everywhere. It really could be any or all of these options

“If someone doesn’t hold the elevator for him again, he won’t wait for another to go up twelve floors just to destroy the control center,” Mitaka reasoned. “He is more likely to destroy the immediate area or at least find a room nearby.”

“Phel, I don’t know what has made you so inclined to be joking or in a good mood,” Thanisson grumbled, rolling his eyes in obvious determination to stay mad. “But whatever it is, I would like it, please.”

“I am on leave.” Mitaka scooted on the bed so that his back was to the pillows. I’m sure it’s the Naboo sun and lake country.”

Thanisson frowned on the other end at the mention of vacation and crossed his arms.

“When do you come back?” he muttered.

“In about three weeks.”

“Three- the _Finalizer_ will be in _shambles!_ ” Thanisson cried. “There will be nothing left to _return to_!”

“But what choice do I have? I cannot just say that I wish to return to rescue you,” Mitaka was only teasing again, but with the way Thanisson desperately looked up, it was apparent that his worries were not to be taken lightly. “I am on the general’s agenda.”

“True enough, and he is not the sort to change his mind once made up,” Thanisson murmured.

“Exactly.”

They were silent as Mitaka watch his friend think over the entire situation. After a few moments of seeing thoughts fly through his facial expression, Mitaka heard Thanisson sigh.

“Ff there is anyone on the _Finalizer_ who deserves a three week leave, it would be you. If what you tell me is your normal played down version of things, then what you put up with is just uncanny.”

“They are not downplayed, Aeon!” Mitaka denied, to which he received an unconvinced glare. “I insist! I just don’t drag out details with grandeur as some may.”

“Or you refuse to acknowledge that, ‘he just caused a small headache, but I am sure he has a good reason for it,’ is not the tone to take for Lord Ren’s _three-week migraine assault,_ ” Thanisson shot back.

Mitaka raised a brow at his blonde friend.

“Aeon, you normally are not so concerned for myself. Is there any reason for such apprehension?” he inquired.

“Phel, I heard from three different bridge officers that you were attacked by Lord Ren and then you don’t show up for our weekly rendezvous? Then you tell me that you’re with General Hux on leave because of Protocol 2-31? And I am supposed to be _casual?_ ” Thanisson’s sarcasm could not be missed.

“Alright, that does garner some concern,” Mitaka admitted.

“I care, Phel. You are the closest to a friend I have on this ship.”

“Is Hanger-1 staff really that appalling to you as to prefer a partially introverted and dishonored Valedictorian?” Mitaka chucked. Thanisson shook his head.

“Phel, you are ridiculous. I wouldn’t even call it humility anymore. Now it is self-depreciation.”

Mitaka rolled his eyes.

_I just_ had _this conversation!_

“Aeon, I really do appreciate the concern, but right now I am exhausted.”

“You were never this tired after working on the bridge, or even after an attack. The General wearing you out?”

Mitaka paused before answering.

“He has…his condition requires my attention, so I have been tending to that. Also, I was forced into civilian society for an entire day to acquire supplies.”

“No doubt the New Republic is spewing out lies of their so-called form of order…” Thanisson muttered. Mitaka chose not to respond to that statement.

“It was very…well, to put it lightly, it was overwhelming. I suppose I will need to recover from that.”

“No one knows you are First Order, right?”

“That’s not a problem,” Mitaka dismissed. “I just…I just was surrounded by a whole different society than the one I am accustomed to. Most of our lives on the _Finalizer_ are based on routine and regulation. Out there, it was chaotic and unorganized.”

“Now you understand why many of us do not wish to go planet-side after being on ship for so long,” Thanisson lectured with slight smugness. “Real life is not regulated and organized as ours is. On ship, it is primarily predictable. Out there, it is completely unknown.”

“I thought you were just avoiding your wife,” Mitaka muttered in mock innocence, a smirk playing on his lips. Thanisson glared at Mitaka’s impishness.

“All she wants to do is have _sex_ with me!” he complained. “She’s so desperate to get pregnant that it’s all she will talk about!”

“You know, a lot of men would state that is something to _appreciate_.”

“ _Phel,”_ Thanisson hissed in warning. Mitaka waved a hand in admission.

Thanisson was like him in preference, but had other ways of dealing with it. Thanisson married a woman to give pretense, and now had the problem of not respecting his partner. He had used every excuse to stay away from her to avoid the eventual discovery on her part about his sexuality. Mitaka did not agree with his friend’s tactics, since it unnecessarily involved an innocent person, and would no doubt probably end in unhappiness on both parties. Regardless, Mitaka knew Thanisson to be stubborn and wouldn’t take anyone’s advice besides his own. He was grateful to have someone who was self-assured of his actions, but also knew it to be his greatest vice.

“You know my opinion of the matter, but it is your life and your choice,” Mitaka said.

_And your mistake and your consequences._

“Thank you. Besides, if _you_ had a wife who wanted to have a baby just because her friends have babies, you would be annoyed too! Children are a responsibility, not a social acceptance coin! They’re messy and a financial nightmare!”

“And also expected by all able bodied First Order couples,” Mitaka pointed out. “Besides, I am sure there is more to it than her just wanting one because someone else has one. My sisters may have _said_ it was because of expectation of their peers, yes, but the real answer is because to them, children bring more substance to their lives, or at the very least excitement. My mother said she wanted them to have an heir, but what she really meant was that she loved children and the idea of a large family.”

“Your point?”

“ _My point is_ that people _say_ they do or don’t want children for different reasons, and they may not always be honest, under the impression that the person they are talking to wouldn’t understand if they were truthful. Much like how you don’t mean you don’t want kids because they are messy and expensive.”

Thanisson’s eyes narrowed on the other end, before he let out a sigh in admission.

“By the will of the Stars, Phel, curse you and your uncanny ability to read into things more than you should. I can never lie to you, it seems.”

“I’m sorry, Aeon.” Mitaka meant it. “I do not know your position, and it will never be expected of me to have children. As such, I am not proper counsel.”

“No, but you are my friend. That counts for something.” Thanisson ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “I have my reasons for not obliging my wife.”

“Im sure you do, and I am sure they are good reasons. Perhaps you can tell _her_ them?”

“I do not think so.”

“Well, I suppose that argument shall not be resolved for a long while, then.”

“it seems so. But I am not too frightened by that prospect.”

Mitaka sighed and shook his head.

“I would hate to be in disagreement with another person for a long period of time. That would only damage the relationship.”

“There never was one to begin with in my case.” Thanisson waved his hand in dismissal. “Let us talk of better things. Perhaps you care to know of Matt’s most recent conquest?”

The radar technician that called himself “Matt” was a common comic relief to the crew of the _Finalizer,_ and no matter what part of the ship one worked, word of the man had spread like wildfire.

The ridiculousness that was the awkward nerdy blonde man was comedy gold to many, especially to officers. It was hard to believe anyone could think of Kylo Ren as admirable, but it was apparent Matt thought so. He claimed to have exclusive knowledge of the force user, and even if anything he said was true, no one _cared._ But he was _insistent_ on _all_ matters that were about Kylo Ren.

If his mismatched appearance and stalker-esque personality were not enough, then the fact that he was _terrible at his job_ made his situation all the more laughable. Troopers, crew, and officers alike all made his job harder just for the humor. Surprisingly, for someone who had a temper, he never once cursed, as though he couldn’t. Instead, he would just make up insults, like “jerk-face,” and “ass-hat”. Yet another reason people riled him up.

If anyone wanted to talk of someone and have a good laugh, Matt the Radar Technician was instantly chosen as the first topic of choice.

Mitaka used to find humor in the seemly wild and impossible tales that people traded about the supposed failure that was the technician, until he saw firsthand just how people made him angry. He never tolerated bullying of anyone if he could do something about it without damaging the victim’s pride. It was just a matter of steering the aggressor away to other things, giving the victim a chance to either stand up for themselves or run the other direction, whichever they prefer.

Matt, being as overzealously “Matt” as possible, merely stared owlishly at Mitaka when his oppressors left to find other entertainment, and demanded what he thought of Kylo Ren’s leadership.

It overall was a strange exchange. One moment Matt was stuck inside the panel with some troopers sitting on his hunched over back end, and the next, Matt was rolling his shoulders awkwardly to stretch them and asking a million questions about Kylo Ren.

“You’re a bridge officer, right? So you’ve seen him in action!”

_Oh, I’ve done more than_ seen _…_

As uncomfortable and peculiar the situation was, Matt was oddly adorable in his innocence, though there was something lurking right under the skin that was itching and threatening to break free. The static around him reminded him of storm clouds threatening to unleash their fury in a lightning strike, unpredictable and without warning. There was a deep anger and hatred about him, though it was buried behind a weakening dam. Mitaka feared it would break if there was too much pressure and resolved to give support to the poor fellow.

There was something familiar about that.

Oddly, he didn’t have to seek him out to give small comfort every once in awhile after that event; he began popping up everywhere. They never really talked, but Mitaka did catch him watching from afar quite a few times. While it was unnerving, Mitaka resolved to not let anyone bother him, much less a man who obviously didn’t know how to make friends without having them laugh _at_ him instead of with him. Instead, he resolved to only be kind.

“Actually, Aeon…” Mitaka began. “I’m very tired. Do you mind leaving the conversation here until next Friday? Call me same time next week, and I will pick up.”

“All right,” Thanisson allowed. “But before we part, I have to say this.”

“say what?”

“Hux. Don’t trust him. _Ever_.”

“What?” this caught Mitaka’s attention immediately.

“I am completely serious. Hux can be charming and helpful when he wants to be, but he also turns at the flip of a coin.”

Mitaka stared at his friend’s completely serious face, unused to seeing his friend so severe.

“Aeon, are you sure this is the same Hux we are talking about?” he asked, remembering all the times Hux was understanding. He wasn’t a malicious leader by any means. The same could not be said for other ships with their commanders, but Hux was different. He was…well, while he was certainly not perfect, he was a damn good superior officer.

“I was at the academy with him,” Thanisson snapped. “He wasn’t just famous. He was _in_ famous.”

_How ironic that_ this _should turn up._

“If you are talking about those cadets he killed then-“

“What,” Thanisson scoffed, interrupting Mitaka. “Did he give you karking excuses?”

“No he just…”

_What_ did _he say? His upbringing was the cause. Was that an excuse?_

“Phel, you shouldn’t turn your back on him under any circumstance.”

“I-”

“I _knew_ one of those cadets he murdered. He was my _best friend_.”

That silenced any argument Mitaka could’ve had. Thanisson, once he realized he had Mitaka in his hand, he took off in a bluntly emotional soliloquy.

* * *

_ Hux _

 

_Darkness was overpowering. The cold aching vastness of the black steel curtain that had fallen over his vision was impenetrable. Hux almost believed he had gone blind._

_A spike of fear drove itself into his chest. Blindness was a handicap, a weakness that he could not come back from. A blind general in an army was a useless one._

_“Useless…thin as a slip of paper…”_

_No… No he was not useless. That man was dead, he was no longer breathing. Hux made sure of that._

_“Useless.”_

_No!_

_“Weak.”_

_Liar!_

_“Shameful.”_

_Stop this!_

_“Pathetic.”_

_There was a roar and a vibration that encased the darkness, burying itself into existence._

_In an instant blinding white light tore across the curtain and flooded the entire existence with crimson death. The beam split into a fiery exodus of five points, soaring through the galaxy darkness as though it were salvation. As each beam passed, Hux heard the voices of those familiar to him, though he dreaded each as they came._

_“Useless…” was the first whisper, one belonging to a soft spoken boy he had met so long ago, its caressing voice like a knife to the throat._

_Hux couldn’t find the ability to make a sound._

_“Weak…” came the second cry, the sound of a child pitying him for his patriarchal proclaimed prophecy._

_Hux felt a burning sensation begin in his eyes._

_“Shameful…” spat the third, a sneer potently laced within the smugly triumphant sneak that was all too eager to spill agony._

_Hux gagged on a sound that was fighting to burst free, but his throat was still closed._

_“Pathetic…” dismissed the fourth, its booming quality and gravelly demeaning tone tearing into the conscious more than anyone else ever could to a child._

_Hus vocal chords released at last, and a new sound broke through the din, drowning out most of the noise. It was a small hope that it would banish the final voice, as the beam shot through him, bursting his entire being with white hot pain and suffering. It was as though he were burning alive, the sting and flash of incinerating torture that fouled his essence._

_Regardless, the final voice from the beam that struck him to the heart was not to be silenced._

_“Capable.”_

_Cold water splashed over him, the sensation chasing the burning away. It stung, but the voice continued._

_“Respect.”_

_The water soothed away the fires, the sensation spreading over his entire body. The added sound to drown out the other voices changed. Instead of it being pained wails over the sweltering heat, it was a sobbing of relief._

_“Hux!”_

_the voice was back, though frantic. He vaguely realized that the sobbing only intensified, but the voice was insistent._

_“Hux please!” It was pleading, growing weaker from emotion. Hux felt stricken. He was hurting someone. Someone familiar. Someone close…_

_“Hux, wake up!”_

_It dawned on Hux that he was the one sobbing._


	8. VIII

_ Mitaka _

 

Aeon didn’t let Phel speak a word until he had his say first.

“That first cadet he killed was my  _ best friend _ . He didn’t hurt anyone and never would. He was  _ harmless, _ Phel. And he  _ slaughtered _ him.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t someone else who killed-”

Aeon glared murderously, obviously in betrayal as his friend defended their leader.

“Hux may have been good at many things, but that was his first murder and he didn’t know how to cover his tracks that well.”

“And yet you took his assignment, accepted the commission,” Phel argued.

“Only because I knew it would give me a good name!” Aeon returned. “I have no respect for him!”

“Aeon-“

“No, you listen to me!” he interrupted harshly. “If you don’t avoid Hux, you’ll end up just like Kiran.”

_ That must be his name. _

“Why are you so sure he would do that to me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“ _ Kiran didn’t do anything wrong either!”  _ Aeon exploded, causing Phel to fumble with the device in shock. “Phel, you are just like him. You’re a pacifist-”

“Aeon, I am  _ not _ a pacifist,” Phel snapped, steadying his holo-com in a tight fist.. “Though I would avoid a fight if I could. If I were a pacifist, I never would’ve been able to pass battle simulations, much less follow orders on the bridge when we make contact with the Resistance. I am the weapons manager! He tells me to shoot, and I fire. A pacifist wouldn’t even be able to prepare the cannons, much less use them.”

“I don’t care; you have his  _ countenance _ . And that could be enough.”

“Since it’s enough for you?” Mitaka snapped without thinking, and with venom.

Both men froze in horror at what one said, and each was filled with embarrassment.

“Phel I-”

“No.” Phel cut him off. “I’m sorry, I should not have said that. It’s wrong of me to assume-”

“It’s fine… I know that’s normal to think that I’d use you to replace-“

“I said I was sorry.” Phel forced himself to smile. “I was thinking with insecurity.”

“No it…” here Aeon faltered, a sigh escaping his lips. “it was not far from the truth when I met you…”

Mitaka’s face fell and his lips parted as Thanisson continued.

“I’ve been bitter about Kiran’s death for over ten years. And then you came along and…well it was a selfish thing, really. But you remind me of him so much so I just pretended that…I apologize, Phel. That wasn’t fair to you.”

No, it isn’t. Replacing someone deceased with another was putting an expectation on a stranger that was none the wiser. It was abominable. It was unfair, and it was  _ selfish _ .

But Mitaka was reminded how he was when he lost his parents…he had no coping mechanism. Not immediately, anyway. As for Thanisson…perhaps he had no way of coping like him. Or perhaps he did better by being angry, before being sad, before accepting. Obviously Mitaka was his way of coping, but what did that say about the relationship, then?

_ No. I will not think that. _

“Do you  _ still _ think of me like you were speaking to Kiran?” he asked.

“No.” Aeon denied truthfully. Phel didn’t know how, but he just knew he was telling the truth.

“You and he  _ are  _ different. No, he never would have made it past battle simulations, but I do know that he should not have been killed. It’s not…Someone shouldn’t be punished because their nature doesn’t follow the standards. They could just leave.”

“I’m sorry, Aeon…”

“Sorry doesn’t make it better, Phel.” Aeon narrowed his eyes at the floor. “Sorry doesn’t bring him back. He was a kid.”

Mitaka paused as he considered how much Thanisson was reacting. True, he may still be bitter about losing a friend, but somehow there was more to the story than he was letting on. He could still be mad and upset over his death but if it was a “just” a friend, most likely (especially with a countenance like Thanisson’s) he would have gone on to being only slightly irked at the mention of it, or change the subject. Instead, he was acting like it happened yesterday. Thanisson was a forgiving person to people who wronged him or his friends but if someone mistreated his family or someone as close as that…

He debated in his mind whether he should ask or not.

“I see that look, Phel. You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” He asked.

“Thinking a million thoughts that no one has ever thought of before. Cough it up.”

_ No. Not now. _

“I thought you wanted to speak of better things,” he said, trying to dissuade him.

“I did. But it can’t be helped, I suppose. But really, do tell what’s going on in that genius mind of yours?”

Mitaka paused.

“I don’t think you’ll like it…”

“If you are thinking that Kiran was my significant other, no, he was not,” Aeon said quietly.

Mitaka blinked as Thanisson glanced away and continued in a gently somber voice.

“I  _ wanted _ to be, but he was swept away by  _ Hux _ . He would barge in at every chance and just charm his way through Kiran’s personality. They became an item, and before any of us could think of it, Kiran was found dead in cold blood.”

“I’m sor-” He stopped himself. Thanisson had already made it clear he wanted no apologies. “I don’t understand, but I do feel your pain. Even now, through this channel I feel it.”

Thanisson was silent as he seemed to ponder over everything that was said.

“I wonder about that sometimes...”

“Wonder what?” Mitaka asked curiously.

“Just  _ how _ you can feel peoples’ pain and suffering so acutely…” Thanisson was still speaking in that same soft voice, the emotions of past trials haunting the tone with every syllable. “That in itself is a gift. But to survive it with a positive outlook…”

Mitaka was silent for a moment, before deciding to speak.

“I can because I also feel their joys and their accomplishments. It makes it worth it.”

Aeon shook his head as though to clear it, his face turning neutral, but Mitaka knew there was a storm in his emotions.

“Just come back in one piece, Phel,” Thanisson commanded.

“I promise you, I will be back.” Mitaka offered a reassuring smile. “And I’ll take your advice into account.”

“You better,” was the snapped reply.

Thanisson cut the feed abruptly, and Mitaka was flooded into darkness, the light from the holo-projection no longer illuminating the room in a pale blue hue. Just as the darkness settled in, so did Mitaka’s doubt and inquisitions. He checked the chronometer.

03:27 standard Naboo time. He gave up hope on sleep. Once his mind was racing as it was at the moment, there was no going back.

He was stuck.

He supposed he could think over the entire ordeal that was Kiran and Aeon. Mitaka felt that the situation between them was even sadder than Thanisson was letting on. Not only had he loved a man, and could have been happy with him had he not been murdered, but he also married a woman, giving up entirely on such things as love. Obviously he was heartbroken.

Perhaps that is why he didn’t want children? Because if he did want children, he wanted to adopt with his significant other, which  _ was _ in tandem with the law.

Marriage was a legal affair, and a privilege only given to couples who could procreate. If the couple could not, they were given an opportunity to raise a child from another family. Mindful, that child would never be admitted to an academy because unmarried citizens with children were of lower status. Also, properties and estates could not be joined by a single name in such situations.

Mitaka wondered if that was an opportunity he would ever have. Unable to live a lie, he was happy with the prospect of  _ some _ chance of happiness with someone, rather than none. However, that did not mean couples did not receive persecution or prejudice from others. Some ended in injury, others in death. Mitaka did not believe it was an easy route, but recalled his mother once telling him that love was  _ always _ worth it.

_ Was it though? _

He wouldn’t know. The times he had been with those boys in the academy, he never once felt anything resounding. Rather, they were release and perhaps mutual buddies that shared a pleasant countenance to be around.

Just as he was thinking of when he may find someone in his life (he was drawing a blank) there came a scream from across the house as though someone were in agony. It resounded into Mitaka’s ears and echoed intensely.

He leapt out of bed, nearly tripping because of the sheets tangling in his legs in his rush. Stumbling, but managing to get out of the room, Mitaka fled down the halls of the lake house, going straight for the room which he knew Hux to be in. He fumbled with the lock to the door with his frazzled hands, but the door eventually admitted him.

Hux was in a fetal position upon the bed, clutching his arms and torso in a death grip, no doubt aggravating his burns. He was still yelling, though Mitaka knew from his closed eyes and lack of reaction upon his entering, that Hux was asleep. Whatever he was dreaming, it was obviously agony.

Mitaka immediately came to his side, attempting to wrestle Hux’s iron hold off his own body. Hux struggled against the contact, and snarled at his oppressor in his sleep. Mitaka got a look at his face and saw that there were tear stains searing his skin like scars.

“Hux!” Mitaka cried, grabbing his wrists and releasing his grip at last on his poor body. 

Hux openly sobbed now, enraptured by the visions of his mind. Mitaka began to panic, kneeling on the bed next to Hux’s curled form and forcing him onto his back.

“Hux, wake up!” he commanded with shakiness, jostling him by his wrists.

Hux’s aquamarine eyes shot open.

* * *

 

 

_ Hux _

The first thing Hux saw were brightly shining dark brown eyes, blown wide with shock and fear. The irises rivaled the pupils in darkness, but the color was unmistakable.

The second thing Hux saw were the slow tears dragging down trails upon the young face of his Lieutenant. He found lines and curves upon his face that he had never seen before. This was the closest they had ever been before in which he cared to look and Hux found himself unable to stop.

The sight of such familiarity and innocence was able to chase the phantoms of his personal horrors, to give way to relief.

He wasn’t sure what came over himself. His hand rose up and cupped the side of Mitaka’s face, drawing a teardrop away from his cheek with his thumb gently. It was then he realized with half a mind that Mitaka had both his wrists in a hold.

“Stop crying, Mitaka…” Hux murmured, his voice hoarse.

Mitaka’s eyes widened, letting go of his wrists to check his face by touch for the offending tears. They were quickly rubbed away, his face turning slightly red.

“I could say the same for you,” Mitaka returned, moving his face out of Hux’s touch. 

Hux wasn’t sure why, but the loss of the caress suddenly was a knife to his chest. He sighed and wiped his own face, feeling his body ache more than usual. He looked down at himself to occupy his mind on different things than the internal pain in his center. There were spots of moisture and tearing in his bandages.

“How did this happen?” he asked quietly.

“You were gripping yourself pretty hard,” Mitaka explained. “You’ve probably opened a few blisters that had yet to heal.”

“Kriffing hells…” He cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That explains why it hurt…” he added as a near inaudible note to himself. Mitaka made no answer to that.

“I’m sorry sir but…I have to replace your bandages.” He twisted his fingers between themselves nervously. “The burns can’t be exposed just yet.”

Hux nodded.

“Alright.”

“A-And I’ll probably have to give you a sponge bath because of the wounds and leftover bacta.”

He once more nodded. Once he was given the allowance, Mitaka went to the refresher to gather the supplies, being a quiet as possible as he rummaged through the cabinets. Hux was grateful, but also ashamed. At first, he didn’t give his condition much thought, but now the knowledge that he had to be cared for like a child by a subordinate was cause for mortification. What would Mitaka think of him after this? To see his general crying in bed over a little nightmare? To have to help him go to the refresher every time he needed to use it?  How could one look at him in the eye and respect him?

_ He could be transferred. He could- No. _

He remembered the oath. Nothing that transpired in the lake house while on leave would affect their professional life. As such, he could not transfer Mitaka somewhere else.

_ But that also meant Mitaka could not request transferal under pretenses of this leave. Kylo Ren’s actions, yes, but not Hux’s. _

“Sir?” Mitaka murmured, pulling Hux from his thoughts. He turned his head to regard him. The tears were gone, and so was the look of wild fear and concern. Now he just looked tired, and perhaps there was a wariness that was not there before.

“I need to get you up,” he continued, motioning to the refresher. Hux sat up and allowed himself to be supported once more, leaning heavily on Mitaka. It was still hard to walk, which made Hux frustrated all the more.

Inside the refresher, Mitaka seated Hux on the edge of the bath basin, which had two containers of water. The silence between them was heavy, and Hux found it to be unbearable. The whispers from his dream were returning.

“Mitaka.”

The lieutenant stopped moving at the sound of his name, sponge in one hand and soap in the other.

“Yes?” he replied, turning around.

“You…” what should he say? “You will  _ not _ speak of the state you found me in.”

He couldn’t find the energy to sound threatening, but the lieutenant nodded all the same.

“Wouldn’t think of it, Hux,” he assured, placing both items in his hands aside. “It’s not my story to tell, and I’ve already established I do not gossip.”

“Admirable, but forgive me if I am…skeptical.”

“Of course.”

The conversation stalled, and they were once more silent. Mitaka seemed to take that as an opportunity to begin. He started to unwind what was left of the bandages on Hux, peeling them with the utmost care. Hux watched him work with an apathetic face, but inside he was growing more and more frustrated. Once one arm was bare, Mitaka took up a sponge and dabbed at the blistered skin, twice as careful as he was removing his binds. Then he took the soap bar and washed away the leftover bacta, rinsing with the sponge. Once again, he applied fresh bacta and dressings.

This process continued, and Hux nary felt any pain. Mitaka was so soft and gentle in his touch that Hux wondered if he was even aware of how effortless he looked. This oddly evoked a strange fury to overtake him, and when Mitaka was about to apply bacta to his left leg, Hux snatched his wrist and pulled him up so they were eye level.

“Why were you crying when you woke me?” Hux hissed. Mitaka’s eyes were wide and his mouth agape in fear.

“I-I…” he stuttered out. Hux’s eyes narrowed.

“Speak, Mitaka!” he snapped.

“I was afraid for you!” Mitaka cried, pulling away. “I didn’t even know I-!”

“Afraid…”

Hux’s quiet voice silenced Mitaka.

“… _ for _ me?”

They stared at one another.

“Yes,” Mitaka whispered. “I…I heard you and-“

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why help me?” Hux hissed suspiciously. “Why do  _ anything _ for me? I will not do anything in return, and you know this. Yet you still do this.”

Mitaka regarded him, looking as though he had been struck.

“Because it’s the right thing to do…” he breathed, eyes wide in assessment. “You know me not to expect anything…to not ask for anything…”

“I do. But that was not my question. I asked you  _ why. _ ”

Mitaka took a step towards him, raising his hands in such a way that suggested Hux was a wild animal that was cornered and ready to strike. In a way, Hux felt as though he were. He wasn’t sure why, but Mitaka was threatening like this. It was demeaning.

“I never thought I would ever meet anyone terrified by kindness, Hux…”

Hux could not think of a response. In fact, he could not think of anything to say at all to him. His mind had drawn a complete blank. He felt like he was in a daze, a fog or mist the he could not make his way through.

He was…lost.

It was not until he felt the sheets of his bed did he suddenly realize that time and space were still moving regardless of his own feelings of frozen internal crisis. This new knowledge was tearing at his consciousness in the same way that his dream did. He felt small, helpless, useless, pathetic, weak…

Small.

Helpless.

Useless.

Pathetic.

Weak.

Small.

Helpless.

Useless.

Pathetic.

Weak.

_ Mitaka _ …

It was Mitaka’s voice that has saved him in the dream. An entity that gave relief.

When Mitaka stepped away, Hux made a mad swipe at his shirt and caught the side of the fabric in his fingers. Mitaka started, but Hux held tight.

“Stay,” he commanded, pulling him back towards him on the bed. Mitaka’s hands went over his, prying the fingers out of his shirt.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Hux,” he said calmly. “You need to sleep.”

“I can’t.” Hux blurted. “The voices won’t leave me alone.”

Mitaka faltered, eyeing him in trepidation.

“Voices?” he questioned.

“Yes…” Hux pressed desperately. “They come back whenever I am alone…”

Mitaka didn’t move at first, and every second that he took on deciding whether he would stay or leave, Hux grew more and more agitated. Mitaka finally relented and was walking to the other side of the bed. He slid under the covers with such grace that Hux didn’t quite know if he was having another dream.

Mitaka turned away from him, and Hux was left to stare at his back. The softness about his body, his attitude, his presence…it soothed him and gave way to a comforting sensation that tingled in his toes.

Without even conferring with his common sense, his mouth allowed words to escape it.

“I was born in a kitchen, you know…”

Mitaka tensed, before turning his head to look at him with the most bewildered look on his face.

“ _ What _ ?”

“It’s true.” He continued. “My first cradle was a pot, the ones they boil stew in. As though they wished to cook me.”

His companion in the bed stared at his face for a moment, looking for any indication that he was lying. When finding none, he bit his lip, stifling his snickers. However, it seemed humor took over his self-control and he was laughing, covering his mouth as he did so.

The tingling in Hux’s toes spread.

“I suppose it could’ve have happened, since that is the way of Arkanis living, in my experience.”

Eventually Mitaka’s giggles died as the meaning of the words sunk in.

“My father once said he should have lit the stove the pot was on when he saw how small I was…” Hux pressed on. There was a strange weight being lifted as he did so.

Mitaka rolled over completely to face him, his expression inviting him to continue.

So Hux took a breath and did.

 


	9. IX

_ Mitaka _

 

“I was always small, regardless of age…I recall my father once telling his peers that I was as thin as a slip of paper, and just as useless…”

Hux’s voice was no louder than it had to be, and Mitaka clung to every word uttered. This was… _unexpected_ but certainly not unwelcome. The fact that he was relaying such information gave Mitaka a strange sort of pride, but also apprehension. Was Hux in the right mind to say such things?

“I don’t think he knew I was listening in, but after that…I became desperate for his approval. I did…many things…because I knew he would approve.”

He paused as though considering if he should go on. Mitaka remained silent, patient for him, but also eager for more. Somehow, if the experience of being Hux’s caretaker wasn’t enough, this quiet moment between them took Hux even further down off his pedestal and made him mortal.

“I suppose that’s why I killed those cadets, truthfully...I knew that viciousness was…I knew it was what my father wanted. I didn’t really…Well, that’s not true. I _did_ kill two of them without prompting…they’d wronged me in some way and I didn’t have self-control. I will admit that as a weakness when I was a child.”

Mitaka nodded, but even so, Hux continued.

“I did not see the point in friendships when I was young. Yes, there were people that followed me and did everything I said, but only so that my reputation as a Hux could brush off onto them in some way. They were not _friends_ , and I made sure they knew that. When I was older, moving up the ranks, I was ostracized by my peers because of my age. I didn’t care.”

He sighed heavily, but only paused to do so.

“Eventually I moved my way to General, and it seemed a little too late to begin socializing on a personal level. It’s inappropriate to be so casual with a subordinate, and since I am essentially the highest power with the exception of the Supreme Leader and his apprentice, which I will not deem appropriate for obvious reasons, there isn’t any possibility of candidates to lower guard.”

Hux turned his head so he was staring directly at Mitaka. There was an intensity in his eyes that made Mitaka wilt a little, but his voice didn’t betray anything different than the previously used tone.

“And then there’s _you._ ”

“Me?” Mitaka could not help but question.

“Yes, _you_.” Hux finally changed his voice, growing more like himself. “There’s hardly a person in the galaxy that can boast to know anything about me, yet somehow you tear my secrets from me as though that were your purpose in life.”

“I don’t…” Mitaka began, before swallowing. “I will not take such credit nor accusation, Hux. It is not my intent to break into your privacy, though you have no issue in doing so to me.”

Hux opened his mouth, closed it, then turned away.

“I…I admit it hasn’t been fair to you,” he murmured. “I apologize. But I-”

“I know sir; you don’t have to say it.” Mitaka interrupted, speaking almost to himself. “It’s unprofessional for a subordinate to know. Regardless of the oath, we still have to return to the _Finalizer_ , and when we do, what then? How could a subordinate maintain the respect once knowledgeable about his or her superior?”

They shared a moment of silence, Mitaka hoping that Hux would believe him if he stated how he truly felt. How speaking of his faults and problems didn’t cause him to think less of Hux, but rather _more_. To be open and true was the same as being brave and mortal, an equal. It made Mitaka more comfortable in his presence.

Hux somehow must have come to that conclusion on his own.

“You don’t believe that, do you?”

“No,” Mitaka admitted.

Another silence as Hux seemed to mull it over in his head. He sighed in admittance.

“I’ve already doomed myself anyways…”

“How so?” Mitaka asked

“I’ve told you too much.” Hux was terse in his response.

Mitaka nodded slowly

“Yes…” he admitted slowly. A large exhale from Hux stopped him from speaking further

“Strangely…I don’t seem to care,” he breathed.

Mitaka looked to the side and played with the hem of the sheets.

“You may in the morning…”

“There are a many great things in life people regret in the morning. I would like to think speaking with my friend would not be one of them.”

Mitaka choked on his own saliva, causing him to cough a little.

“Friend?” he questioned.

“What?”

“You called me your friend.”

“I did?”

Hux seemed to rifle through the conversation before his eyes widened, realizing the obvious.

“I…did…”

Hux turned his head to look at the tall arched ceiling, most likely in thought. Mitaka bit his lip, hearing Thanisson’s words in his mind so clearly in their warning.

_“If you don’t avoid Hux, you’ll end up just like Kiran…”_

“I think we should sleep, Hux,” Mitaka suggested, planning on slipping out of the bed as soon as Hux was asleep.

“I agree,” came the instant reply, the speaker obviously rattled by the new prospect. Mitaka couldn’t disagree with that thought process.

Regardless, the silence that ensued between the two men eventually quieted their panicked thoughts, and sleep claimed them. Mitaka’s plan was thwarted, but ever the tactician, he still found a way to escape; when dawn broke over the horizon, Mitaka snuck out while Hux was still sleeping.

Groggy, slow, and a tad bit grumpy with having so little rest, he forced himself to prepare breakfast for himself and Hux (if he wanted any, that was).

_And caf. Please let there be caf in the cabinets…._

His silent begging was not unheard, for the maker soon heard thanks for the discovery of caf only moments later. Brewing with a comforting smell, Mitaka’s mood lifted slightly.

Wishing to feel his best, he decided to make a list of goals for the day. He always was at his best when he had goals or objectives set for the day.

_Have to’s:_

  *       _See to it that Hux’s needs are met throughout the entire day_
  *       _Make plans for dinner with Ashara_
  *       _Don’t get too comfortable around Hux, regardless of what he says (most important)_



_Want to’s:_

  *       _Finish that horrible romance novel_
  *       _Go for a swim_



He really did enjoy the water here on Naboo, and was disappointed that he had been there for half a week and only been in it once. He supposed he could make it a point to go swimming every day…

He finished the food and caf in a pleasant mood, returning to Hux’s room as soon as he could. He was surprised to see that Hux was awake, and looking over his datapad as though things were perfectly normal.

“Morning,” Mitaka said, entering the master suite.

“Morning…” Hux grumbled back, his attention not at all on him. Mitaka was not offended.

“You want breakfast?”

“Ice water will do fine.”

A moment later he returned with what was requested.

Hux remained in bed the entire day, dutifully fulfilling every request Mitaka made of him.

Needless to say, it made Mitaka’s job easier, and even allowed him to take a few hours to reading his abominable romance novel, though he was still in the room with Hux the whole time. That was not to say Hux was the perfect patient. He occasionally had argument about being touched too much, and obviously found it highly embarrassing when he had to lean on Mitaka every time he had to get to the refresher, but it was still surprising how much the general actually did as Mitaka asked.

_Unless, it had to do with work._

“Hux, we are on leave.”

“That means nothing.”

“I’m sure unless there is an emergency, the _Finalizer_ will not fall apart if you are not micromanaging it.”

“Mitaka, the highest power on my ship is _Kylo Ren._ Need I continue?”

“No offense to my superior, but he would be a fool if he destroyed the very ship he lived on, much less the one needed in order to finish his mission.”

“You know what I have noticed about you?” Hux looked up from his datapad at last, regarding Mitaka with an amused eye. “You cannot say an ill word about him without saying you mean no offense. He is not here to be offended, and I certainly do not mind insulting him.”

“I know, Hux.”

_You seem to make sport of it, in fact._

“So what reason is there for your caution, hm?” he questioned. Mitaka scowled in response, a lengthy explanation brewing in the back of his head. He repressed the bulk of it, however.

“I consider it practice for when he is present.” He said in summary.

“It will make no difference to him,” Hux reminded him. “The hooligan has no sense of cordialness; he just hears the insult.”

“Which is why I never elect _to_ insult,” Mitaka countered. Hux tilted his head to the side in curiosity.

“Do you ever speak your true thoughts, Mitaka? To anyone?” he asked.

Mitaka closed his book, setting it aside.

“I do.”

“ _Unabridged_ , true thoughts?” Hux pressed.

“No,” Mitaka admitted.

“Let’s start. Be on hearsay for a moment.” Hux looked at him almost eagerly. “what would you say right now?”

“Right now, on hearsay, if I were to be unabridged?” Mitaka asked.

“Yes,” Hux clarified.

“Put your kriffing datapad away and sit up so I can remove your bandages,” Mitaka commanded smartly while his eyes narrowed, humorless. “I’d say you should be fully healed by now.”

Hux stared in a mixture of shock, awe, and amusement.

“I’m impressed,” he chuckled, doing as the man said. “for a moment I almost believed you would say ‘if you don’t mind, sir’…”

“I would, but that didn’t cross my mind.” Mitaka was quick to peel the used bandages off the nearest arm, careful with the newly reformed skin. It was always sensitive after being regrown, so he took care to not tug too hard or fast, in case the once slimy substance was tacked on too well with age.

“Are you secretly rude in your head, but polite and obliging to all around you as a pretense of your character?”

Mitaka could not help the small laugh that came from his chest at Hux’s question.

“No. I was just annoyed.”

“Shame.” Hux chuckled. “It would have been an assured ruse that would fool everyone, and would prove most amusing.”

“To whom? Certainly not me.” Mitaka finished one arm and moved to the other. “I fail to see the humor in being impolite to anyone.”

“And that is where we disagree,” Hux sighed. “It is very humorous to be impolite to the likes of Ren.”

“You _can_ be impolite,” Mitaka pointed out.

“Not that you _would_ ,” he laughed in response. “You are too _good_ for that.”

“You make me sound as though I were pretentious in my attempt at good nature.” Mitaka raised a brow as he spoke.

“You secretly may be!” the other cried. “But no one would be the wiser. Hells, you may just be the most selfish, sadistic, and sinful person who ever lived, but who would ever know?”

“That would be regrettable.”

“Thy is there no denial coming from your lips?”

“Ardent denial would give my wicked nature away, Hux. It is better to say nothing.” As Mitaka spoke, he tried to hide his grin, but to no avail. Hux noticed it with his ever present observation skills and thus the air around them remained casual and teasing, a new feeling between them.

Mitaka supposed this level of comfort came after Hux opened up in his moment of weakness.

This, added to the fact that there was perhaps no more embarrassing a position than being a patient to another person. In this way, he was secretly thankful that this ailment happened, though he would never admit it out loud. Perhaps now that the awkward phase was finished between them, he could finally relax for the remaining time on Naboo.

_“If you don’t avoid Hux, you’ll end up just like Kiran…”_

“I have to say, Mitaka,” Hux said, inspecting his newly healed skin on his bare arm. “You are more humorous than your anxious attitude lets off.”

“I am only anxious because I have worries on my mind.”

“Worries?” Hux questioned. “What kind of worries?”

“Well, if it’s just you or another CO on the bridge, then I worry if I am doing my job up to your standards, and I worry about setbacks,” Mitaka explained. “When Kylo Ren is on the bridge, then I worry if he will attack anyone without warning or reason.”

“Like he did you?”

Mitaka gave pause before shaking his head.

“I don’t know if…I don’t know if that was with cause or not, to be honest.”

Hux gave him a look.

“Why would you say that?” he demanded.

“I don’t know…perhaps he was angry for some outside reason that none of us are privy to and he just…took it out on myself?”

“I suppose that does sound like Kylo Ren…” Hux muttered. “Regardless, you should not just take his blows as a part of your job. Your job is to ensure the weapons are fully armed and operational to pristine condition, and fire when necessary; not Kylo Ren’s stress toy.”

“Unlike you, Hux, I am incapable of fighting against him verbally for obvious reasons. And I do not resort to physical fighting, not that it would work against him anyway.”

Hux seemed to mull thoughts through his head, a consideration and then refusal process that went on for some minutes. Mitaka let him alone as he did so, not wishing to interrupt his reverie. Instead, he ran his fingers gently over a patch of pink skin to test for irritation or pain. When neither sign made itself present on Hux’s face, Mitaka resolved that Hux was now completely healed.

He turned his back to him and was about to dispose of the bandages, when a shriek split the silence violently, and Mitaka jumped in horrified surprise.

“Sir, what-” he began, turning back to Hux.

He was fine. No open cuts spontaneously bursting blood, no blaster wounds, and no rapid acting disease. He just looked…well, shocked and a bit terrified. He was staring down at his body as though he were turning purple, actually.

Mitaka collected himself with a sigh of relief and annoyance.

“Hux, what is the _matter_?” he cried exasperatedly.

“What are these _infernal_ spots on my skin!?” Hux snapped, pointing to the little brown speckles that dabbled all over where he was burned. Even on his face, especially around his nose.

Mitaka bit his lip to suppress his giggles.

“Freckles?” Mitaka offered, his voice strained a little. Hux took no notice.

“What disease are ‘freckles’?” Hux asked, Mitaka swallowing a snort. “They obviously are not an allergic reaction to bacta, since I have used the substance before…”

“N-no sir…” Mitaka whimpered, a hand over his mouth as a smile broke free.

_This shouldn’t be funny. I should not be laughing. He genuinely is worried._

“Is it a lethal Nabooian disease, Mitaka?”

The question was the final push towards Mitaka’s loss of control. The laughter burst forth from his chest like a dam breaking under pressure, and he doubled over, unable to reign it in in any way.

“I-I’m sorry...Hux….” he gasped out in-between peals. Hux stared at him incredulously.

“Mitaka, this is highly abominable!” he scolded. “I may be dying of a disease and you take humor to it!”

This only proved to further Mitaka’s laughter along, adding fuel to the fire.

“S-sir….I apolo-…-gize….” His sides and chest were aching painfully.

“You truly are wicked behind that meek demeanor if you take delight in my death,” Hux muttered.

Mitaka fell to his knees, tears streaming from his eyes. He clutched at his stomach and sides, both sore from the exertion.

“You’re not dying sir!” he wheezed at last. Hux’s eyes widened, staring down at Mitaka from the bed.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re fine!” Mitaka said from the floor, steadying his breathing so he could calm himself.

“So this is not a disease?” Hux asked. He shook his head in frustration. “Then what is it, a rash!?”

“It’s the way you tan…” Mitaka was still giggling, it was much easier to speak and move. He hoisted himself back upon his feet and wiped his eyes and cheeks from the tears.

“Some tan evenly, others in spots.” He explained, humor still in his voice. “When we are out in the sun for long periods of time, we tan and freckle, depending on the person.”

Mitaka waved his hand towards Hux’s shoulders, where they were the densest.

“You freckle.” He said simply.

Hux narrowed his eyes.

“Tan…” he tried the word, obviously with distaste. “And you found this hilarious because…?”

“Because you thought you were going to die.” Mitaka managed to stop his giggling, but still could not school his face into a neutral expression. Instead, he stood before his very perturbed general with a stupid grin. “I would not laugh if you were in any pain or serious trouble, Hux.”

“Regardless, I was legitimately concerned and you take that as a cruel joke.”

“No, I was not laughing at your naivety,” Mitaka denied with a reassuring flash in his eyes. “I was laughing at how scared I was when you cried out, only for it to be as harmless as freckles.”

Hux stared with a melting pot of emotions. They were so jumbled up, that even Mitaka could not begin to even try to understand what he was thinking. Hux normally was difficult to understand, but after being in his presence for so long professionally, and then being together in such closed quarters as this, he found that he was not too hard of a man to read after all, though still requiring effort. He supposed that was because he interacted with him more than most officers on the _Finalizer_.

Yet again, he always seemed to have this latent gift in reading people no matter where he went, and understood social norms and ideas just by entering a room. This social savviness had its perks, but Mitaka was not the sort to take advantage. He left that to men like Hux.

“Do they...look alright?” Hux asked. He was attempting to hide his nervousness of the possible answer, but Mitaka was no fool.

_It's such a sweetly innocent question…_

“They suit you, Hux.” Mitaka sighed, and scratched his small stubble. “I never took you to be a sort that would care for vanity, Hux.”

“I consider it pride in my appearance.”

“Do you care for your appearance because of what you think of it, or because of what others might say?”

“I-” Hux stopped and turned inward to his thoughts, a small frown on his face.

Mitaka felt guilt scratch its claws at his chest. The question was not supposed to garner such deep thought as this, but Hux was obviously taking this to heart. It seems the man is not as light as Mitaka initially tried for. That was an error of his own assumption, and wished to remedy that immediately.

However, Hux interrupted this objective with his answer.

“Both, I imagine,” he said looking down at his hands. “On one part, I must keep appearances for the masses. Professionalism is key in our military world. On the other part, I remain impeccable in dress, style, and air for my personal comfort. I prefer such things in contrast to…raggedly dishevelment.”

His aquamarine eyes lifted to Mitaka’s dark ones.

“Would you say that pride and vanity are evils in this case?”

Mitaka stared at him for a moment, trying to configure a response that would be honest but without offense.

“Pride concerns more of the opinion of ourselves,” He slowly began. “Vanity is based on other’s opinions. In most cases, vanity would be more of the sin. But the military stature has always demanded the good opinion of others, so it’s hard to say for sure. I have always hoped I would not care for other people’s opinion of me, since it normally is not positive.”

“Why would it not be positive?”

Mitaka was taken aback by Hux’s question.

“Well…some consider my meek and shy nature unbecomingly weak. They take the opinion that I am a pacifist and thus should not even be in the First Order, much less an officer.”

Hux stiffened at the word “pacifist” and his eyes became stranger with every word. He seemed lost, stumbling around in the dark. Mitaka swallowed hard and had a strange feeling he knew Hux was thinking about Kiran, and that was obviously unsettling to the both of them. Mitaka summoned his bravery  and continued.

“I do not care for their opinions of me, since the only opinions that matters are my superior’s.” He shrugged a shoulder, hoping his nonchalant air would sooth the obviously disturbed Hux. “I am not weak. And I am not a pacifist. Since I am neither, I-”

“You do not need to explain that to me, Mitaka.” Hux interrupted, his attention returning. “I have always known you were neither of those things.”

The silence was a comfortable one, despite the awkwardness before. Given the chance, both men took a moment to their own thoughts. Mitaka appreciated the faith Hux obviously had in him, though the attention he was being given as of late was…well, it was partially unnerving. It was as though he were digging around for something, but could not make any sense of it.

If he were trying to find fault, then he already found it. But that obviously was not in his interests. No, he was searching for something else. Mitaka could not imagine why Hux would be so interested in _him,_ despite all argument that he gave over the matter.

_Search away, Hux. I have nothing to hide. And perhaps then you will believe my proclamations of inconsequentiality._

* * *

 

_ Hux _

 

It was a suspicion at first. An inclination and pestering thought that would arise at every chance it could. Over time, however, it was apparent that the suspicion gave way to an actual theory. Once the theory was formed, Hux resigned to acknowledge that it existed as a mere possibility, but _never_ would he _ever_ think it to be the truth.

_But there is no denying it. He is without pretense or deception._

The realization, as shocking and world breaking as it was, came as a breath of fresh air. It was a sickening, awkward, and violating sort of comfort that Hux could not fathom. He was _glad_ Mitaka was as he appeared.

_Harmless. Courteous Obliging._

However, there came a new question that the situation posed: what to do with this information?

In the past, any sort of discovery after this kind of inspection required a call to action, resulting in murder. Hux had no intention of killing Mitaka (and somehow the mere thought of doing that seemed outright evil and unnecessary). He wanted no ill will towards the man either. It had already been made obvious that somehow he could not stand the thought of Mitaka _not_ thinking well of Hux in every way.

He supposed he could leave the man alone, but somehow that seemed unlikely. After meddling so much over Mitaka’s life and personality, it seemed unlikely that he could ever forget that about him. How was he to look at Mitaka the same? As a subordinate? An employee? Things were likely changed forever between them. Was that cause for worry?

“Did you want to walk around by yourself and try it out? Stretch your legs?” Mitaka’s voice interrupted his thoughts abruptly. “You’ve been in bed for the past few days.”

“Indeed, I think that would be best.” Hux agreed, pushing his sobering thoughts aside for the time being. He wrinkled his nose, adding, “Though, I would prefer not to go outside.”

“I understand,” Mitaka said, nodding. “Do you want me to make dinner soon?”

“I think I will pass on that as well. Water and ice will still suffice.”

“Still feel nauseous?”

“A little, I admit.”

“At least let me make some broth.”

Hux relented with a sigh.

“Very well, if you insist.”

“Which I do.”

Hux eyed Mitaka’s innocently smug expression, which he found more and more delightful every time he saw it. It showed a secretive wit to his already intelligent mind, and established that he was fully aware of what others thought of him, and sometimes acted the opposite just for his personal humor. It was impish in nature, but surprisingly delightful.

Hux slowly moved his legs around and touched his feet to the ground. Mitaka stood and gave him some room to stand, though he remained close in case his legs decided to be difficult. Balance after long periods of time off one’s feet had a tendency to become fickle from disuse.

When he put weight on his legs for the first time in days, the ache from his appendages’ signified their complaint of sudden work, and whined at the effort he was insisting they partake with on something as difficult as _walking_. As such, his legs made sure to be as stiff as possible, and his wonky balance was not helping him either.

Mitaka was ever present, and stayed close as Hux tentatively took a few steps out of the room.

“It is cooler out here…” Hux commented, placing his hand on the wall to steady him. Mitaka nodded.

“More open,” he responded. “Where to?”

“The kitchen,” Hux said immediately. “The honor of watching you cook was taken from me, and as such I would like that privilege back once again.”

“As you wish.”

They made their way slowly to the kitchen, Mitaka staying by his side. Hux was oddly grateful for this sign of cordiality, and couldn’t fathom why he was being graced with the goodness from someone so willing. It was confounding, but not horrible. Mitaka’s considerateness was…soothing.

Once entering the kitchen, Hux sat on one of the seats by the island and thus allowed Mitaka to do as he pleased. He gathered ingredients with ease, obviously more well acquainted with the room than previously.

“Do you have any preference on what broth you would want?” Mitaka asked, going to the conservator.

“Nerf, if you are able,” Hux said. Mitaka immediately pulled out a set of ribs with plenty of meat upon them. He took up a knife and easily sliced away most of the edible muscle, leaving the bones behind.

“What…are you doing?” Hux asked slowly, leaning over the island to get a better look. Mitaka glanced at him before returning to his task.

“Exposing the bone so that I can make broth. I normally would just heat a package of broth with a little bit of vegetables, but I don’t have any of that. Instead, I’ll make it by hand.”

With that said, he fetched one of the hanging pots and filled it with water. Heating up the stove once the water was on a burner, he sorted the meat from the bones.

“But…there is still some meat and fat left over,” Hux pointed out. “You didn’t strip them all the way.”

“that’s where the water gets the flavor. More meat on the bones, more flavor,” came the patient response. “I didn’t think you would want _too_ bland of a meal.”

Hux shrugged a shoulder in response, and watched Phel as he worked, the sound of a spoon stirring a liquid, the smell of the nerf in the broth, and the sizzling of oil in a pan as the orchestral soundtrack. The perfect ease he had in this environment was very domestic, and Hux felt strangely at peace with it. Watching someone whom he had only known in a uniform go about with mundane tasks in a kitchen with such self-sufficiency was… _delightful_.

That was, until Mitaka stopped what he was doing and turned to him abruptly.

“What…will happen when we win the war?”

Hux nearly did a double take on the suddenness of the question, before he considered Mitaka.

_Where was this sort of thinking coming from?_

He tapped his newly speckled fingers against the stone countertop in contemplation.

“I suppose we all will have to find our way. Decide to stay in the military, or leave for different things such as building a family or career?” Hux tilted his head as he regarded his companion. “what would you do?”

“Me?” Mitaka seemed genuinely stumped by the question. “I…I suppose I would stay in the military if possible.”

“Not leave? Not try and start a family of your own, indulge in partially selfish whims of a personal career or indulgences?”

“I…I already said that marriage most likely wasn’t in my future, so that includes children as well.” Mitaka murmured. “As for career…I haven’t prepared for anything beyond the war. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Mitaka poured the broth into a thermos cup and handed it to the general, gazing at him carefully with his doe eyes.

“What about you?”

“After the war?” Hux asked. Mitaka nodded.

“I cannot allow ill rulers to take the stand as the leader.” Hux said immediately. “I have led the First Order well enough these past years and I suppose I am willing to continue that.”

“It almost seems to be a design of yours, if you don’t mind me saying,” Mitaka chuckled, though it was not without nervousness. Hux was quick to reassure him.

“Not for power’s sake!” he insisted a little forcefully, panicked. “I saw the New Republic destroy my life before it even began, and then place idiotic policy-makers as the new authority, not even bothering to place the outer rim worlds in the senate. What good is democracy when an entire sector of the galaxy is stripped of rights and security, bargained to the highest bidder, only to be robbed of its riches and left to starve?”

Mitaka supplied a glance of an unconvinced debater.

“So it’s a sense of righteous fury that makes you wish to lead?” he asked.

“Partially.” Hux chose his words carefully. “I also do not trust anyone else to do it. Not that it would happen, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

Here, Hux cursed his casualty.

“There have been whispers that a military leader is not befitting for a galaxy wide reign,” he replied. “While there is truth to that, they fail to recognize the so called ‘flaw’ of myself as a potential ruler.”

“I…I don’t know what you mean…” Mitaka turned away guiltily, as though he knew _exactly_ what Hux meant. He narrowed his eyes.

“You agree with them, then? That I am young, and a loose cannon, as it were? A weapon to be exploited?”

“Sir?” the dark haired lieutenant stared in bewilderment his guilty stance no longer visible. Obviously that was not what he was thinking. Hux leaned against the counter seriously.

“You do not think so?” he questioned.

Mitaka’s lip moved a little upwards on one corner, the smile that Hux found himself liking more and more each time he saw it.

“I always believed you to be the creator, rather than the weapon.”

The warmth that was building in Hux’s chest froze into an iceberg.

“Mitaka, I am an instrument for destruction.” He corrected ardently. “I remodeled star-destroyers so they could be faster and stronger, I now lead legions of soldiers to seize worlds, and plan to tear down a republic. In what way do you see me as a creator?”

The other stared at Hux in silence, and remained so for several moments. He obviously was considering the speech, but eventually that same knowing smile returned. The one that had a slight curve up one side of his mouth; the one that proclaimed a deep understanding.

“Hux, you only see half of what is there. For every bad that happens, there is a good. You have been taught, like most people, to only see the bad.”

“How in the stars do you figure there is a good side to everything?”

“I am not saying that the positive facet of an event is equal to its darker component, but it is there, nonetheless.”

“Example,” Hux demanded. Mitaka’s smile widened, obviously eager to have heard that demand and was prepared.

“You see this knife in my hand. For many, it is nothing but a weapon, an object that cuts flesh with ease as it does for this fruit. But that is not it’s only use.”

Mitaka made a series of cuts in the rounded red produce with a practiced hand and an ease that was soothing to Hux. When he was finished, he pulled at the edges, and the cuts widened so that the pieces were only held together at the bottom by the thin skin. The fruit was now presented in a decorative arrangement, delicious to just look at.

Mitaka pushed the fruit towards Hux.

“It also can be a tool,” he finished, putting the blade down. Hux stared at the fruit skeptically.

“And in my case?” he asked, picking it up with his fingers before eating it.

“You made the star destroyers safer, more efficient, and more comfortable to live in. Your legions are also used for relief efforts and bring order to the worlds conquered, sometimes without even firing a single shot. And the Republic was selling a lie anyway when they said everyone had a voice.”

“But you did not say I would make the Republic better, if I were to assume responsibility of the galaxy.”

Mitaka stiffened at the comment and was slow to answer. When he did, he was carefully choosing his words.

“I am not a fool to think…you are the one…who will _truly_ sit on the throne when this war is finished…”

Hux’s eyes narrowed with every word, but as its meaning sunk in, his face turned to distress.

_He’s right…Snoke would take the throne. Even if I were to sit upon it, I still would only be the physical figure. The supreme leader would still pull the strings. And his wants are…still a mystery. Even to me, and especially to those who have never spoken with him. Mitaka’s worry is sound…_

“Hux?” Mitaka pressed with concern. He shook his head.

“Nothing…I was just thinking that I may join you for Ashara’s dinner.”

Mitaka blinked a couple times.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes. I think it would be beneficial to get out and meet people not similar to ourselves, so long as we are extremely careful to not give ourselves away.”

“Even though she is pregnant?”

Hux regarded him sternly.

“That is not so much an issue if I am expecting it, and put my mind to it.”

“Why does that even bother you?” Mitaka asked thoughtlessly.

Hux raised a brow in his direction, causing him to pause before nodding.

“Personal, I see.” Mitaka configured.

Hux hummed, and played with a wooden spoon in his hands, trying to get used to the spots that now adorned his skin.

“I need that,” he heard Mitaka say. Hux chuckled slightly before passing it to him.

Mitaka stirring vegetables in a pan with a practiced ease. He was mesmerized by how fluid his movements were, each having a purpose and a significance to the dish. He realized that just as Mitaka changed various ingredients to make food for himself, he also changed Hux.

Hux knew it was irreversible, but was relieved it was. The color of this planet, smells of the greenery and lake water, tastes from the divine food, and even the sounds of the wind and exotic birds in the trees all had a deeper meaning to his life. Somehow nothing looked grey anymore. The ache returned to his chest as he drank more from the thermos, the warmth spreading comfortably from his mouth down to his toes.

_I was not supposed to be obsessed…How was I supposed to know that the more you learn about someone...the more you feel something…_

Hux glanced up as Mitaka interrupted his thoughts momentarily by taking the seat near him on the kitchen island, a faint smile on his face.

_How could you do this to me?_

 

 


	10. X

 

_ Mitaka _

 

_“…and thus the star crossed lovers were to never meet again both in life as well as beyond, though both died that day; one tormented into the eternal rest, and the other suffering death of the soul.”_

“Are you _quite_ finished reading that?” Hux’s voice interrupted from the other couch. Mitaka could not help but chuckle by Hux’s disdain, though he could not deny there was some truth in it.

“Yes, I’m finished,” he replied, closing the hard bound book. He glanced up with impish mirth in his eyes. “Eager to read it yourself?”

“ _Hardly,”_ Hux objected, not looking up from his pad. “The _maker_ cringes at the thought of such a romance being _possible_.”

“I doubt this was a true telling. There _had_ to be exaggeration,” Mitaka said, putting the book aside. “Besides, some of the things written are very interesting.”

“ _The Engineering and Construction of the Death Star_ was interesting.” Hux lifted his eyes from his pad, challenging Mitaka to argue him about the title named. “Tarkin’s autobiography was thrilling. _The Militia Tactics of the Imperial Age from Dawn to Dusk_ was thought inducing. _Thrawn: Admiral of Ages_ was an artwork.”

He returned to his work, a triumphant air about him.

“I welcome any attempt to sway me into believing that _abomination_ is _remotely_ interesting compared to any one of those literary works,” Hux grumbled, still typing on his datapad. Mitaka only grinned wider.

“It has some very poor pick-up lines that explain Lord Ren’s aversion towards sand, and even has a few facts about the couple that would surely make Lord Ren recoil if he knew.”

Hux paused in his typing, obviously thinking about the chance to cause more suffering on his intolerable co-commander.

“Give me the book,” he demanded, holding his hand out. Mitaka laughed, and handed it over.

“I don’t mind poorly written books from time to time, but that one rivals most,” he said.

Hux turned it over in his hands, inspecting the cover and pages with delicacy. His datapad was abandoned mid-sentence on his knee, balancing precariously on the joint.

“I have hardly ever seen physical books, but to think that such an artifact preserved in such good condition is a story about a relationship with no chemistry and boundless stupidity…” He sounded almost saddened by these thoughts, lamenting that the effort was wasted on what he no doubt regarded as trash.

“And to think it was a bestseller…” Hux continued to muse. “The things people will read for romance!”

“Mostly teenagers, I'm sure,” Mitaka commented. “Or curious people like myself. However, after reading some of those lines, I was just waiting for Padme to live up to her reputation of being a wise senator and leave him, though I knew that was not going to happen.”

“Would you say that love blinded her?” Hux inquired curiously. Mitaka snorted and waved his hand at the words that came unwarranted to his mind.

_“You’re so beautiful…” “It’s only because I’m so in love…” “No…no, it’s because I’m so in love with_ you.” _“So love has blinded you?” “Well, that’s not exactly what I meant…” “But it’s probably true…”_

“Please Hux, I cannot stand that term anymore…” Mitaka laughed, shaking his head as though to rid the pesky sentences that was wince worthy.

“Is this book the cause for such distaste?” Hux asked, holding up the offending literary work. Mitaka managed a nod, and heard Hux give his own snort.

“All the more reason why I do _not_ read romance novels,”

“That’s not a romance, it’s a damn _tragedy,_ ” Mitaka insisted.

“Isn’t every romance?” Hux replied, opening the book to the first page.

“Depends,” Mitaka mused. “I don’t think my parents’ romance was.”

“That was a healthy relationship in real life…” here Hux read the first lines under his breath and made a disgusted noise. “Ugh! And was _not_ exaggerated by words on paper!”

“True…” he admitted. Hux only continued his speech, reading the first paragraph aloud.

“‘ _Are you an angel?’ the small boy asked his future wife. The surprise in the woman’s voice was understandably filed with humor as she gave a small ‘what?’_

_“‘An angel.’ The boy happily continued. ‘I heard the deep space pilots talk about them. They’re the most_ beautiful _creatures in the universe!’_

_“The complement to the woman’s appearance and demeanor charmed the hidden royalty, and thus roused curiosity. She stepped closer to the child, eager to hear more from this sweet angel (albeit not the ones he was talking of).”_

Hux seemed to wish to chuck the book into the fireplace, but decided against it ultimately. It was, after all, an artifact, no matter how horrible its contents were.

“Already, it describes their age difference! Her a queen and a _woman_ as stated here, and he a _boy_ ; a _child!_ ” Hux ranted. “And there’s a mistake! A _mistake!”_

Mitaka was now laughing at Hux’s loathing to typos and spelling errors in general, and that only made Hux further his argument, including his hands in his rampage.

“ _Stop your laughing!_ ” Hux demanded, waving his hand at the lieutenant. “This is a serious matter! A spelling error on the first page!? _Filed_ instead of _filled!?_ What, was the editor so _enraptured_ by the tale that they didn’t bother to do their damned job!? Or perhaps they were so disgusted that they didn’t bother to make adjustments because they _knew_ it was horrible and doomed anyways!”

Mitaka didn’t bother to cover his amusement, as he leaned over himself to wait out the laughter. He did not hear the rest of Hux’s speech about Tarkin’s superior experiences for content and Thrawn’s biography and how it's proper writing style of artistic flow perfectly suited the subject. When he finally came to his senses, his eyes were watering and his chest ached.

He looked up to find that Hux was giving him a peculiar look, one that was foreign to Mitaka entirely. However, it was short lived as he schooled his expression back to neutral irritation.

“It makes no difference, it’s all a hoax, anyway.” His voice was back to its normal, calculated command. It was as though they were on the _Finalizer_ once again, back to being officers with rank to separate them.

“What?” Mitaka asked dubiously, unsure what he was meaning.

Hux held up the book on one hand on display.

“Every romance I have ever heard of always ended in dramatic and unnecessary tears,” he said gravely. “Love is more than just a myth; it is a _lie_ sold to society in an attempt to sugar coat the universe. It does not _exist_.”

Mitaka opened his mouth, but quickly closed it, considering who he was talking to. It was obvious Hux was speaking about love in his own experiences, or lack thereof. As a result, there was obvious contempt towards the mention of it, and even so far as jeer the very idea. Mitaka could not see how anything he would say would change Hux’s opinion, and though he disagreed, he did not wish to try.

Hux was haunted by his past and was aware of what he lacked, but seemed to cope and muddle through it just fine. Some moments, he showed his pain and suffering, but that was only when he was in a weakened state, or under high stress levels from an unknown situation.

_Strange…even when you reside with someone, you still don’t know their true feelings on life and whether they are satisfied or not…_

“You have a peculiar expression, Mitaka…” Hux commented, breaking though his reverie. Mitaka jolted, but otherwise was not surprised Hux had called him out. Not many had bared witness to his more pensive side.

“Is it the one that Aeon calls my ‘thinking a million thoughts that no one has ever thought of before’ expression?” Mitaka asked, a chuckle in his speech.

“Aeon?”

Mitaka lifted his eyes to regard Hux properly, though there was a curl of something awful settling in his gut.

“Petty Officer Aeon Thanisson,” he specified. “We have been friends ever since I came to the _Finalizer_.”

“I see. So he is aware of your overall skills of deep thinking.”

“Completely. Occasionally mocks me for it, actually.” At the sight of Hux’s unimpressed face, he was quick to add, “All jesting, of course. Deep thinking isn’t his forte; he is more of the kind of person to jump to action in private matters.”

“Such as?” Hux pressed.

“I…” here Mitaka faltered in his speech, allowing the silence to express his discomfort of the inquiry.

_Aeon would never forgive me for talking about him to the man that killed his first – and as far as I know,_ only _– love. I may as well have tossed away the friendship down to the trash compactor…So much for not having anything to hide, Dopheld…_

Hux closed the book sharply in his hands, putting it aside.

“Let me hazard a guess: you do not wish to say under the guise that it would be gossip?”

“Partially,” Mitaka admitted honestly. Hux gave a noise of thought.

“The oath, Mitaka,” he reminded, rather than comforted. “Nothing shall change anything.”

The obvious push that was less than welcome to Mitaka was making him go on edge, and as such began showing though nervous ticks; bouncing of his knee, twisting his fingers in on each other, worrying the inside of his mouth.

“I don’t care,” Mitaka replied. “It's more than that. He has not relayed to me if I should say anything. Hells, I don’t think I even should have mentioned him.”

Hux raise his brows at Mitaka’s hesitancy and tapped his fingers against his knee.

“You do not trust me,” Hux stating the undertone that Mitaka failed to voice. As a result, he wilted under the words, and wished to disappear into a puddle. Hux sighed heavily, almost in regret.

“I cannot blame you in that respect.”

Mitaka bit his lip harshly, nervous for the possibility of Hux bringing up Kiran and connecting them.

“I have hardly given you reason to trust me, no?” Hux relayed instead. Mitaka could barey contain his relief, but Hux only continued, and what little positive feeling there was, died in a matter of seconds.

“I hardly speak of myself and my personal matters, but yet I order you about.”

“I _do_ trust you.” Mitaka argued. While thankful they did not touch on the subject of kiran, he wasn’t sure how well he could keep himself maintained should he have been compared to him. Being compared to a dead man was irksome at the least, and at the most, Mitaka was desperate to be recognized as his own persona, not some cheap surrogate.

“No, you still only trust the rank, not the man,” Hux corrected. “And why should you? You know of my evils.”

Mitaka shook his head.

“I do but I don’t want…I don’t _want_ to distrust you,” he tried to explain.

“You cannot help it,” Hux accused.

“That’s not-”

“Ah, but it’s the truth, no?” Hux sounded too light in his tone to be anything but sarcastically casual. “I do not hold it against you. More or less, this shall be a challenge for me to fully obtain your trust, no?”

“I…” Mitaka didn’t know what to say to that. Hux huffed at his silence and looked down at the book Mitaka finished.

“I have not the talents to socialize.” He changed the subject so suddenly that Mitaka had to backtrack. Hux gave him a moment to do so, but no longer than a minute.

“You know this. So therefore I have come across a problem in light of the occasion.”

_Hux had changed the subject. Good. Perhaps it shall be a lighter one._

“Occasion?” Mitaka asked.

“The dinner,” he specified, though not well enough for the lieutenant.

“Um…there is a problem?” Mitaka asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Hux groaned with exasperation. “I have never spoken with people from the Republic!”

“Yet you abhor them so much as to willingly spread propaganda…” he muttered under his breath before he could stop himself.

“ _Mitaka_ ,” Hux hissed in warning. Instead of withering, he surprised even himself when he matched his gaze.

“ _Hux,_ ” Mitaka snapped.

They shared a glare at one another, which Hux broke with forced words.

“I abhor the fact that they disregard the Outer Rim planets as nothing more than an exploitable resource to pick apart for their own damn profit until the people are left to starve when the planet is stripped clean. You cannot deny that has happened, Mitaka, and is _still_ happening.”

“Blame that on the politics, where it belongs.” Mitaka insisted. “The people themselves had nothing to do with it.”

Hux snorted out of his nose, but didn’t give a response to that. Mitaka took it as a small victory.

“I require assistance, Mitaka. How does one speak to them?”

“They are not incapable of communicating in basic.”

“ _no,_ how do I converse with one of their kind?”

“Twi’leks are more than capable of galactic basic, which Ashara assured me that everyone knows.”

“ _Mitaka, that is not what I meant and you know it!”_ Hux exploded, throwing his hands up in the air to punctuate his point. Mitaka didn’t flinch or react to Hux’s outburst except to merely narrow his eyes in disapproval and partial disgust.

“I don’t answer stupid questions that should answer themselves. They are not non-sentient beings incapable of reason or equality.”

He didn’t elaborate further as he stood up and left the room with an irritated air, not bothering to look back at Hux’s hurt expression. He didn’t stop even when Hux called out to him.

* * *

_ Hux _

 

_Stupid stupid_ stupid.

It became a mantra as he ran around the halls of the villa, desperate to find Mitaka in the elegance of the house. He supposed it was his own fault for wording his inquiry so poorly, suggesting that he was inconsiderate towards their species.

_And I already said I was_ not, _the paranoid dolt!_

If that wasn’t what Mitaka believed, then he obviously thought Hux disregarded the Republic as beneath him, and as such unworthy of his attention.

_Neither of which are true, but must be rectified._

He found him on the balcony, staring out over the water. When Mitaka heard him coming, he whirled around, leaning against the stone railing with potted plants as decoration.

“I am not in the mood, Hux,” he said, irritably.

“I wish to explain-”

“I don’t want to talk, Hux.” Mitaka cut him off sharply, his brown eyes boring into Hux’s own, serious in its warning. “I need a moment.”

Hux didn’t move. He didn’t even turn away. He didn’t want to leave Mitaka alone, but he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything.

_It’s that damned feeling again…that one where I cannot have him think ill of me…_

Mitaka moved, bringing him out of the thought. He was leaning heavily against the railing now, almost as if he were tired.

“Hux, I asked for a min-”

“I don’t know how to speak to anyone outside the military,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “ _That,_ is what I meant.”

Mitaka’s reaction was less than appealing, as he merely looked away. Hux grew frustrated and clenched his fists to his sides, feeling his emotions threaten to boil over. Up to this point, he had kept in good faith that Mitaka was not only as he seemed, but also _sensible_. At the moment, however, that was proving to be a myth.

“You think so little of me as to be a Human Supremacist? Even when I have _denied_ it?” he hissed. That got something out of Mitaka. He curled inwards over the railing, obviously trying to become smaller.

“I…”

Hux could hardly hear him, but he could tell that Mitaka didn’t have an explanation. His anger grew more potent.

“That’s hardly fair to _anyone_ , Mitaka,” he scolded.

Silence. It lasted for what felt as an eternity, the birds and waves being the only sounds in their ears. That however didn’t mean that the quiet between them wasn’t highlighted by a tension so thick, Hux could _see_ the haze that separated them.

“I suppose I wish to see it for myself…” came the small murmur at last. An _excuse_ , Hux decided.

“ _Convenient_ , then, that we are to have dinner with a Twi’lek family tonight,” Hux proclaimed sarcastically, the sardonic nature dripping from his words.

The distrust hurt, and the coldness in his voice was not to be mistaken. Mitaka was not fool enough to miss it, and visibly slumped against the stone railing, his form looking so fragile. Hux was sure that an errant word could shatter him. Chances are, the stronger a person was, the more likely they were brittle if bent. Mitaka never strayed from his morals, and stayed true to what he believed. But what he failed in was the wish to please everyone, including himself. That was his weakness; his chip that could become a crack, and potentially cause a shatter. Hux decided to not take his words to that point. Mitaka got the message.

Hux began to turn away when a hand grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“I…I’m sorry.”

The slow and guilty apology was not enough to warm Hux, regardless of the small plea underneath it.

“Mitaka, I would very much like to have something,” he said, turning his head. “Just _one_ conversation where one of us doesn’t have to apologize, or at the very least be honest with one another…”

Mitaka swallowed and backed off under the force of Hux’s words.

“Believe me, I _want_ to be open, Hux. But someone may suffer for it…it’s for his sake…”

“Aeon’s, I presume.” Hux lifted a hand to silence the comment Mitaka was about to say. “I do not know what is happening on my ship, but it has not slowed productivity, and thus I cannot find a fault unless it is morally incorrect.”

“It’s not on your ship,” Mitaka allowed, albeit after careful consideration.

“That can either be a relief or a disturbance.”

Hux watched as Mitaka seemed to weigh the possibilities of either, only to come up still unknowing the answer.

“I…I don’t know which it is. I suppose I have a hope that you will drop the subject?” Mitaka’s hopeful voice was matched by the small innocent one sided grin he gave in an effort to win Hux’s good favor. Hux was not swayed.

“ _Hardly_ , Mitaka. I have a great interest in this because obviously it involves me.”

Mitaka threw his elbows onto the railing’s edge and held his head in his hands, groaning loudly.

“Kriffing hell…I wish Thanisson never told me…”

_That_ caught Hux’s attention immediately, and he was upon him in an instant.

“Told you what?” he demanded.

Mitaka froze, his entire body stiff and on the defensive. Suddenly his walls crumbled and he started moving towards flight mode. Hux didn’t want to give another chase, so he quickly blocked his path of escape.

“Mitaka, what did Thanisson tell you that has been bothering you?”

Mitaka lowered his hands and sighed shakily, the reflection of frustrated tears shining off his face. Hux felt a knife in his chest and he swallowed a lump.

_It may not even be me that will break him…_

“Mitaka, I don’t know what you expect will happen if you say anything, but I assure you, this does not leave this balcony. _Ever_ ,” he tried to reassure.

Mitaka made no response of any kind. He just stared ahead out over the water. Hux considered the officer named Thanisson.

Somehow that name was familiar, but only vaguely. What connection would he have to himself? Hux did recall a boy in a younger class named Thanisson, but they never interacted. All he remembered about him was that he was brash and upfront, not at all like Mitaka. If they were the same person, then their relationship must be an interesting one. And based off Mitaka’s earlier description…

“Kiran…” Mitaka murmured, jarring Hux. He had not heard that name since…

“What?”

Mitaka took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on Hux, his hands shaking on the railing.

“Thanisson told me about Kiran…and what happened to him.” He said evenly, though with some obvious difficulty.

_Kiran…Kiran…the pacifist…_

Hux took a step towards him, and watched as he moved away in turn.

“He said it was me, didn’t he?” Hux said. Mitaka only nodded once, seemingly unable to do anything more.

Hux wanted to tell him that it wasn’t him. He wanted to assure him that he never did such a thing. He wanted to be able to say that he was innocent, that he was mistaken. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie anymore.

“I was ordered to by my father…” Hux admitted, tearing his eyes away from Mitaka’s pained face and towards the water, finding the reflections in the setting sun to be exquisitely beautiful.

A small breeze rustled the longer ends of his hair and tickled his face. A new thought came, unwarranted: he hadn’t shaved in a few days. He probably looked like a rugged mess.

Suddenly, Mitaka was by his side, gazing up at him for more. He complied.

“There isn’t much to tell, really…It was nothing personal. Mentioning him to my father, the head of the school, was a mistake. I didn’t know he would command me to…” he trailed off. “I was a different person then.”

“You said that last night…” Mitaka recalled quietly.

“Yes…and I do not regret telling you anything, oddly.” Hux tapped his fingers against the stone in thought. “If anything, it will help you see me beyond the rank, perhaps.”

Mitaka shifted his gaze back and forth between the afternoon light over the water and his companion before deciding to speak.

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “For me to see beyond?”

He sounded partially suspicious of the idea, or at the very least hesitant towards it.

“I admit, it is out of character for me,” Hux sighed. “But it does get tiresome to be viewed, but not _seen_. It reminds me of my youth, actually.”

“What?” Mitaka murmured.

“Like I said last night, if I recall…” he turned his head so he was studying Mitaka’s face, illuminated sideways in the waning light. “No one ever saw me for the person rather than my father’s name or reputation. It was the only reason people paid any attention at all. This is why I say I never had friends…up till now.”

Mitaka looked away from Hux’s gaze, seemingly sheepish to be given such attention.

“And…now?” he asked.

“You try,” Hux said simply. Mitaka’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion before Hux explained.

“That’s the one thing the others never did; they never _tried_ to see past the rank, the status, the power, the name…you make an effort and see the man underneath it… regardless of my frustration over it. Trying is worth something…”

The bird’s song from over the lake overtook them like a melody that did the sun farewell for the day. Hux listened to the beautiful sound and breathed the fresh air deeply, feeling more open here than he ever did in the vast void of space.

Mitaka’s whisper interrupted his thoughts.

“Trying isn’t anything important. But I think I _do_ …at least a little now…”

Hux allowed a small smile.

“It’s a start, then…”


	11. XI

_ Mitaka _

Hux acted strange when Mitaka emerged from the bedroom. He seemed...well, he wasn’t his normal, apathetic and calculated self. And Mitaka wasn’t even sure what  _ happened _ . All he did as far as he could tell, was walk out of the bedroom after getting dressed for the dinner. Hux was already prepared to leave when Mitaka joined him outside. That was when Hux began staring. At what, Mitaka wasn’t sure, he checked himself over twice to be sure everything was in order, and none of the locals spared him a glance when they boarded the shuttle, so his appearance was acceptable by their standards.

The shuttle was on time, much to Hux’s obvious pleasure. Mitaka knew he liked punctuality, and as such was relieved that something would go right in Hux’s favor to take his mind off his anxiety. He denied it, but there was no doubt about it in Mitaka’s mind; Hux was  _ nervous _ , if his tapping feet and twiddling thumbs could be any indication.

“They’re just ordinary people, Hux. Not some delegate or military leader.”

“I can handle politics and the military,” Hux replied stubbornly. 

Mitaka sighed and allowed Hux to brood for a moment. But only for a moment.

“Well, since you know politics, opinions, and history are off the table, what would that leave?” Mtaka asked. 

Hux remained silent, though this time for a very different reason.

“Really?” Mitaka muttered in disbelief.

“I already told you,” Hux snapped. “I don’t know what I am doing.”

“Follow my lead then?” Mitaka offered gently. Hux gave out a long sigh of exhaustion.

“Yes, or I simply remain in a corner and  _ watch _ . This will at least prove useful in the sense of  _ research _ .”

“For  _ what _ ?” Mitaka questioned with a chuckle. 

Hux did not share his amusement. Rather he seemed to be in deep thought, almost in the same intensity as though he were strategizing a battle plan during a confrontation of the Resistance.

“I…may have mixed feelings about this place.”

“Naboo?”

“Larger, Mitaka.”

Mitaka knew what he meant, but it was just hopeful thinking. Hux was still building his regard towards the Republic. Mitaka knew he only felt what his upbringing allowed, and given what he was told about it, none of it was positive. However, it was obvious Hux was at least  _ trying  _ to give the New Republic the benefit of the doubt. Mitaka could respect that. He hoped that this dinner, and having a conversation with these people, could help shape a more open opinion. And perhaps actually prove to Mitaka that Hux was open at  _ all _ .

“Did you tell them who I was?” Hux asked suddenly. Mitaka shook his head.

“No, they just know us by the names given. You, being just Hux.”

“In other words, yes, they do,” Hux groaned. “It’s no secret of my persona, Mitaka. Even in the Republic. If my name was not enough, my  _ hair  _ would give it away.”

Mitaka spared a glance at the ginger locks that were swept back by hand alone. Gel was not available, and Hux didn’t bother to shave. Mitaka had to admit, it made him look older, and perhaps a little more rugged. Less like a military leader. More like a refugee.

A very  _ neatly _ dressed refugee.

Decked in a high collared top with three quarter length sleeves in ivory, and silver trim accenting the edges of the garment in angular geometric patterns, Hux seemed almost regal. Not that the prospect was anything less than suiting for a man who wanted to rule the galaxy.

_ Well, he changed his boots this time, so it’s a step up from being obvious. _

“At least tonight we can be something different for a change,” Mitaka tried to comfort.

He knew it wasn’t much, but it was still applicable, and that was the important part. Hux gave him a questioning look, and Mitaka elaborated.

“Here we can be something other than officers. We are just people here.”

“If they  _ allow  _ us to be …” Hux replied bitterly.

The shuttle braked to a halt at their stop, and Mitaka led Hux onto the street, confident on where he was going. Memorizing the directions was preferable to be constantly looking at a datapad or map, almost  _ asking _ for trouble for ne'er-do-wells who resorted to criminal activity to survive.

“I’m not quite sure what you mean?” Mitaka asked his companion with an inquisitive glance.

“Labels are powerful, Mitaka,” Hux replied seriously. “It makes it easier to claim understanding, and therefore enable self-proclaimed education.”

“That’s…deep.”

Hux waved a hand.

“All I am saying is that if we are regarded as nothing but officers, then no matter how much we are at ease, we will always be  _ treated  _ as officers.”

“Ashara never treated me like one,” Mitaka shrugged. “I’m sure as long as you make an effort, no one will do that. These people are not  _ cruel _ , Hux.”

“So you say…” Hux muttered under his breath. Mitaka groaned a little.

“Can’t you trust me, Hux?” he demanded.

“I can trust  _ you _ ,” Hux replied in a similar fashion. “It’s  _ strangers _ I don’t trust.”

A group of people passed them, to which Hux eyed with distaste, making a couple of them squirm. Mitaka flashed them an apologetic look to them, and steered Hux down the right street.

“Well, maybe after this dinner, they won’t be strangers any longer,” Mitaka proclaimed, stepping up to the entrance of a stone house with ivy creeping up the side like a green curtain, a typical natural Naboo architectural design touch. 

He was just about to knock, when the door slid open to reveal the familiar face of Ashara. She squealed at the sight of Mitaka, embracing him as tightly as her pregnant body could allow.

“I’m so happy you're here!” she exclaimed happily. Mitaka expressed his similar feelings with warmth. Hux just stood a foot away, seemingly steeling himself. Mitaka had a flash of pity towards him, but it was only slight.

Ashara turned to Hux and looked him up and down, seemingly satisfied with his outfit. She, after all, picked it out for him when she and Mitaka shopped in the market together.

“It’s nice to see you too, Hux…” she trailed off, somewhat awkwardly. Hux cleared his throat and put on a confident face.

“I am honored that you extended the invitation to me,” he replied, holding out his hand to shake. Ashara took it and shook it, seemingly respecting Hux’s wish to remain professional. Mitaka didn’t expect anything less. When it came to uncomfortable situations, it was normal for someone to revert back to what one knew best.  For Hux, it was being professional and partially aloof. Ashara seemed to recognize that, thankfully.

She ushered them both inside the modest home that was so obviously lived in. One part about star destroyers that were filled with military personnel that Mitaka didn’t like was the fact that there was nothing homey about them. They were expected to be spick and span at all times. So much so that it seemed hardly used, though there were people everywhere.

Ashara’s home was  _ different _ than that. It had marks on the walls from the furniture and a stains on the rug in the entryway. Items were strewn about here and there that didn’t seem to have a proper place. The floor, while swept, had scratches and smudges every now and again. Mitaka was surprised to actually see  _ dust _ on the top of a storage cabinet that was well beyond Ashara’s height.

If that were not enough, there were personal items that made it belong to the Twi’lek and her husband. Photos and keepsakes were placed around for optimum viewing and design placement. The one thing that stuck out the most from the rest of the relatively modern design of the home was an old…statue of some sort on a pedestal. A doll of that resembled the figure of a Twi’lek, though abstract nonetheless.

As Ashara moved to the next room, urging them to sit down and make themselves comfortable while she finished dinner, Hux approached the supposed important decoration. He seemed to recognize it, but Mitaka couldn’t be sure  _ how _ he did.

“That’s Ashara’s family Kalikori,” Hux’s voice cut in, as though reading his mind. Mitaka cocked his head to the side a little inquisitively.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“The subject of Kalikori was brought up in Thrawn’s book, when he took up ownership of the Syndulla’s Kalikori.” Hux explained. There was the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen, and both men turned their attention to the source.

A human man was standing in the entrance of the dining room, which was all set up for five people.

He was slightly taller than Mitaka, but still shorter than Hux by at least three inches. Brown hair dyed with partial blonde tips and eyes that shone emerald green, he was handsome in his features, but it was his smile that made him look friendly. He was averagely built, but seemed to hold confidence in himself. That was something Mitaka could definitely respect.

“Tyris,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand to Mitaka first, who was closer to him. “I’m Ashara’s husband.”

Hux’s eyes widened in Mitaka’s peripheral vision, and the lower officer tried to reign in his inner panic.

_ Oh stars…Ashara didn’t mention that her husband was a  _ human _ … _

Mitaka shook his hand, and Tyris turned to Hux, who had schooled his expression back to military apathy.

“Ashara tells me that you both are from off-world. I was an off-worlder too when I came to Naboo and met her.”

“How  _ did _ you meet her?” Hux asked. 

Mitaka knew based off his expression and tone that he was pleased that he knew it was a safe question and could cover up his nerves. Mitaka was relieved, though the question of the source of the nerves was tumbling in his head. If he could distract himself, then all would be well. Hux was a quick learner and adaptable; surely he would be alright.

_ If his nervousness was not caused by disgust of interspecies relations. _

“I met her while I was working, actually,” Tyris replied pleasantly, smiling wistfully as if he were replaying the moment in his head. “I’m a technician down in the shipyards, and she was returning to Naboo from Ryloth with her brother, Noki. Apparently they had difficulty on the way, and I had to work on the ship.”

Mitaka saw Hux swallow hard. Ryloth was not too far away from Arkanis, and both were in First Order territory. Ashara and her brother were therefore  _ refugees _ and left illegally, probably hitting a patrol on their way out. Mitaka cut in before Hux could say anything.

“I heard we were to expect her brother here too?” he said. Tyris’s smile waned almost painfully and nodded.

“He…” His eyes flicked between the two men in an unsettled matter.

“He isn’t exactly eager to come,” he decided at last.

“Oh?” Mitaka asked. “Why is that? Is he not feeling well?”

“Noki hasn’t felt well  _ ever _ , as far as I’m concerned,” Tyris replied with a vaguely dark undertone. “He’s…well, he’s not friendly towards those not from the republic.”

“So maybe it’s for the best if he doesn’t show.” Hux said nonchalantly. 

Tyris’ eyes widened to the size of plates, and Mitaka’s mouth dropped in horror. Upon seeing their shocked expressions, Hux seemed to check himself, backing a little from them.

Ashara entered the living area and looked between them, a little confused as to what had happened.

“Dinner's ready?” She posed it as a question, hoping that it would diffuse the obvious awkward that had settled between them. 

Tyris practically jumped at the chance and slid into the dining room as an escape. Mitaka schooled his expression and shook his head definitively, following them with Hux in tow.

The dining room was quaintly set for four people, to which Ashara explained that her brother ultimately decided to not come. Hux said nothing; he had learnt his lesson.

The meal was well prepared and Mitaka was more than eager to try the foreign cuisine. Ashara explained they were dishes she learnt on Ryloth, and Mitaka listened with rapt attention as she described each one’s preparation and spices.

“Ashara never said why you were here…” Tyris said to Hux, leaving Mitaka to Ashara. Mitaka listened with one ear.

“Is this some secret elopement from the First Order?”

Mitaka’s eyes widened, and he heard Hux choke on something. He looked back questioningly at the coughing man, seeing the panic in Hux’s eyes. It was a strange emotion to see in him, and regardless of watching him dramatize his medical problems in the previous days, it still was strange.

“N-no,” Mitaka said at last, the shock wearing off. “No, no, no, we’re not…we’re not lovers.”

Tyris shrugged a shoulder.

“So why  _ are  _ you here?” he asked.

“Vacation.” Mitaka replied.

“Oh? From where?”

Hux cleared his throat and answered instead.

“Confidential, I’m afraid.”

“ _ Obviously _ .” Tyris laughed, slapping a hand on Mitaka’s shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hux seem to bristle at the contact. Mitaka’s confusion was short lived as he attempted to come up with a good excuse. To his astonishment, Hux did it for him.

“I am sorry that we cannot be more open about such things. With that being said, may I offer an alternative conversation topic?”

Mitaka gawked at Hux’s sudden change of demeanor, but was thankful for it. He knew Hux was trying, and that was a relief within itself. He may shock by his bluntness, but his comments didn’t stretch into inappropriateness. However, as Mitaka thought before, he was a quick learner; adaptable. 

Drop him into a square of Gungans and Mitaka was sure Hux could speak exactly as they do in a couple days.

_ That image is…there are no words… _

“Why did you think we were a couple?” Hux asked Tyris. Mitaka could feel his face flushing, his humor of his previous thoughts bidding adieu.

_ Just because he’s adaptable, doesn’t mean he takes other’s embarrassment into account. _

“Ashara said you two were on leave together,” Tyris said pleasantly, not looking at all at Mitaka’s mortification. Ashara, however, was more than aware of it.

“Only buddies do that among mostly equal rank,” Tyris continued. “The gap is huge in your case, which leads me to think that you two are hiding something from the First Order.”

There was a jolt under the table, and Tyris winced. He flashed a defensive look at Ashara’s warning eyes but backed down immediately.

“You speak as though you know military protocol, Tyris.” Hux continued, as though nothing happened. His curiosity seemed to be taking over his observations. “Did you serve?”

“Nah, I just meet a lot of people,” he replied, rubbing his calf under the table. “There’s no official military for the entire republic. Just a small militia for each world represented.”

“Ah. I suppose working in such a traveling hub as the shipyards would be reason to know. However, I must ask you, why do you believe elopement is required for us?”

Mitaka let out a groan and slapped a hand onto his forehead. Hux spared him a glance, but didn’t retract his question. Mitaka wanted to send a kick of his own under the table. Except its victim wouldn’t be Tyris.

“Oh, Ashara told me about marriage in the First Order.” Tyris said with a content smile.

Hux raised a brow and Mitaka played with a small roundish green vegetable on his plate, pretending to be  _ very _ occupied with it. Ashara was looking at the ceiling with rapt attention.

“Really? Did she mention that same sex couples are not necessarily mistreated?” the comment wasn’t a jab, but Mitaka still saw Ashara wince.

“That they have plenty of opportunities?” Hux pressed.

“Except not marriage,” Tyris pointed out.

“Marriage is held in a different regard in the First Order, so it is not right to judge that as mistreatment,” Hux replied. “It is a union between families to raise  _ children _ sharing a bloodline, though personally I think even  _ that _ is flawed. The couple has to procreate, or at least make an attempt. Of not, then there is no need for marriage. Really, what is this taboo about a couple who has to be legally bound to each other until death do they part though ceremony? And why is it socially required for a child to be born under wed parents?”

Tyris opened his mouth, then closed it. Ashara sipped her blue milk, hiding her concerned face behind the tall glass. Mitaka frowned and lifted his eyes slowly to glance over at Hux.

_ That was…random. _

Hux returned his look with a stern eye, the words “ _ don’t ask” _ being apparent. Mitaka didn’t. Hux obviously was feeling pressure, and he was finally fully aware that he was the cause. As such, he was thinking hard on how to get out of his situation.

Mitaka took pity on him.

“Speaking of children, when did you say you were due?” Mitaka asked. Ashara let out a sigh that was laced with a smile, the tension in the room lowering immediately.

“In three weeks. Though the doctor said I may be early.”

“Really?”

“Yes. What of your sisters? Are any of them expecting currently?”

“Kimmi-eh is finished, since she had six in rapid succession. Marinma is still recovering from her latest birth I think. Katskya had her fourth last spring, and Tamina has two, and still trying for a third.”

“So you have…at least twelve nieces and nephews?” Hux asked. While Ashara and Tyris gaped at the number, Mitaka shrugged a shoulder with nonchalance.

“Sixteen. Or was it seventeen?” He puzzled over the exact number for a moment before shrugging. “I haven’t seen them in a while so I really can’t say for sure. Most of them I haven’t met.”

“You ought to, I think.” Ashara pointed out with an impish grin. “I’d bet you are wonderful with children.”

Mitaka paused to think of the four branches of his family, and the thought of meeting so many people in such a short amount of time. And couldn’t help but think of how chaotic raising children was. It would be so delightfully wild in comparison to his mostly quiet and ordered life.

He grinned with a warmth that settled in his toes.

“If I ever have the chance, I will. Perhaps when the right moment comes.”

“Maybe when you introduce your boyfriend, Phel.”

Mitaka was about to laugh at Ashara’s joke, but suddenly Hux was caught into a violent coughing fit. Three pairs of eyes stared at him with worry, but Mitaka placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

“Wrong way,” he croaked his hair covering his eyes. Mitaka pulled his hand away slowly after giving his shoulder a small squeeze of comfort.

“To answer your question Ashara, maybe I will if that time ever comes. But at present, no.”

“Pity.” Ashara shook her head with a grin, collecting her plate as she carefully stood. “You really are a catch, Phel.”

* * *

 

_ Hux _

 

“I never thought I’d have  _ the _ General Hux as a dinner guest.”

“I suppose my reputation precedes me…” Hux replied darkly, almost depressively. When it came to his endeavors in the military, Hux was always very sure and confident about his achievements, and was proud to wear them on his sleeve. Now, he was just  _ embarrassed _ .

“I heard that you are an engineer and a tactician that rival those in the Empire. That rivals  _ Galen Erso _ ,” Tyris said, moving to a small liquor cabinet to get them drinks. “Why, do you not think so?”

“Those are the  _ good _ things that people say about me here in the Republic,” Hux reminded, watching Tyris’ hands as he poured the wine.

_ Come now Hux, do you really think he’ll poison you? _

“Ashara and I prefer to meet someone before making judgments, and even then, first impressions may be wrong,” he replied, offering a glass to him. “Ashara thought some pretty nasty stuff until your friend here cleared the air for her.”

“Do I even want to know?” Hux asked sarcastically.

“Your imagination probably is painting a worse picture than she ever could be capable of,” Tyris comforted. “Our imagination always blows things out of proportion. Now her  _ brother  _ on the other hand…”

He let that statement hand, and the meaning was clear.

“I see.” Hux said. “That is a small comfort, then…”

Hux trailed off, his head turning towards the kitchen, where he heard Mitaka and Ashara laugh about something or another. Hux could not describe what he was feeling (besides the obvious “out of place” sensation he had been sporting all night). No, it was a feeling towards  _ Mitaka _ . A strange sort of tugging or pulling, whose epicenter was the lieutenant himself.

Hux was more than acutely aware that he only wished Mitaka to think good thoughts of him, and how much he had grown to appreciate the gentle aura that this man had. But now, in his absence, it was magnified to an extreme  _ want _ .

_ Perhaps it is just because he is the only company I know…yes, that’s it. _

“Hux?”

Tyris’s voice jolted him out of his reverie.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked. Tyris held a very amused look before sipping from his glass of wine. The expression made Hux vividly uncomfortable. It was as though the man had a secret, and was wondering if Hux, the object of said secret, was aware of it.

“You’ve been distracted all evening.”

“I am not accustomed to social settings outside the military,” Hux defended himself.

_ It is not as easy as I presumed. _

Mitaka made it all seem so simple. He was in his element; a delightful guest among those he had marveled into adoration. His friendliness had charmed his audience better than a politician, and was as sincere as a man of charity. His flawless performance was no façade, which made the display all the more enviable to Hux. However, he was glad that Mitaka was comfortable in the very least, and that the smile on his face didn’t dwindle for too long, even with Hux causing more than one awkward moment through poor judgment.

And his judgement was indeed poor in focus and sense.

It didn’t help his focus or sense in the  _ slightest _ when Mitaka was wearing what was essentially fit for models on Coruscant. Still decked in black, Mitaka was classy and simple (by Naboo standards, anyway). His top was of two shades of black, the darker of the two betraying the earthy leaf patterns that was as organic as the wearer. The shoulders were accented by the sudden change of color in the pattern, flashing a stark gold against the rich black and reflecting into his bright eyes of supposed innocence. The neckline showed off the stockiness in his form, and didn’t hide the slight pull in his chest area. His pants, while simply sharing the same dark color as that of the top, displayed his legs and behind a little too well for Hux’s concentration. Keeping to his mostly military grade boots, all that was missing from this gorgeous image was perhaps gold chains to go delicately around that neck…or gold paint on his face, as Hux had seen some men wear in Theed.

“You stick close to Mitaka more than adhesive gel…” Tyris pressed.

“He is the only one I know well here,” Hux replied a little too quickly.

“You keep on staring at him like he’s going to disappear. Been doing it the entire time you’ve been in this house.”

“How could I not?” Hux bit his tongue hard at the slip up, and Tyris laughed heartily, though it was not in mockery.

“I know a lovesick fool when I see one,” Tyris said with an amused tone. “I was like that with Ashara.”

“I am  _ not _ lovesick,” Hux insisted. “I don’t even see Mitaka that way.”

“No?” Tyris placed his glass on the table next to the Kailikori. “Why do you say that?”

“Because I  _ appreciate _ Mitaka. I appreciate that he works hard, has a deep thinking mind, abhors gossip, has humility-”

“And you can tell all of this from just being with him for 10 rotations?” Tyris asked, unconvinced.

“I have known him for a year,” Hux snapped. Tyris was not offended. He only asked more.

“Did you talk to him before this leave?”

“Once or twice.”

“Then why go on leave together?”

“I was…” Hux searched for the word. “Intrigued.”

“That’s how it  _ always _ starts.” Tyris explained patiently, like he was explaining this to his son or younger relative. Hux was not sure he liked being talked down to, but the man seemed to know this from experience. It was worth a listen, he decided.

“You first tell yourself it’s because you find them interesting. Then you say it’s because they are a great person. Then, before you know it, you can’t stop thinking about them, and being separated from them is agony.”

“That will not happen,” Hux proclaimed decisively. “He is, after all, an officer on my bridge command. Not only is he close by, but he also is capable of defending himself.”

“Separated as in  _ you aren’t a couple, _ ” Tyris specified.

Hux wilted, before taking a large gulp of the wine in his hand.

“I do not humor myself of impossibilities.”

“Last I checked, an engineer never says that.”

“For algorithms and productivity, yes. But interests of the heart? There are just some things that will never be.”

“Why not? What’s stopping you?”

“Mitaka and I have no interest at all? Command frowning upon a superior fraternizing with a subordinate or superior? Society’s most famous individual being homosexual and has no interest in raising children, thus making a union illegal? The higher up would not approve of such a distraction?” Hux waved his glass expressively. “Take your pick!”

Tyris sighed heavily and sat down on the couch with little grace.

“You are hopeless.”

“As far as I am concerned, I am rather logically sound.”

“That’s your problem. This is an  _ emotional _ matter. And you can’t put a battle plan or mathematical formula on it. Emotion cannot be treated with logic; only be put in check.”

Hux was about to argue, but Tyris only continued.

“You make your problems sound as though you can’t do anything, that  _ logically _ you shouldn’t like Mitaka more than a lieutenant- don’t give me that look, your first problem is that you are in denial- and that  _ logically  _ you can’t be together for this reason or that. But here’s some news; not only you  _ can _ but you  _ will _ if you want it that badly.”

Tyris pointed in the general direction of the front door with his glass.

“You think there aren’t some two faced bigots out there who think Ashara and I’s union is blasphemy? Unnatural? Grotesque? And I don’t even mean those from your Order, either. People  _ right here _ in this city. Hell, on our very  _ street _ . But do you think we gave a damn? I got down on my knee in public, in front of hundreds of people, to ask her.”

Hux stared with wide eyes at the man sitting before him. His actions towards his wife had no reason to them. They were emotional based, yes, but  _ which _ emotion? Respect? No, respect would mean he would keep themselves as friends for image’s sake. Lust? No, there was definitely something more substantial than that. Obligation was right off the list of possibilities. Passion was a prospect, but passion often died when problems arose.

_ So what was this? _

“A very fanatical sentiment, Tyris. Truly. But I cannot do such a thing in my world.”

“Can’t, or  _ won’t _ ?”

Hux couldn’t find the ability to respond. He was utterly speechless. Whether it was Tyris’ bluntness, or his own dubiousness towards the inquiry, he wasn’t sure. Either way, he wasn’t about to find out.

Mitaka and Ashara joined them in the living space, Ashara looking sluggish in her movements.

“Need to take a nap, Asha?” Tyris asked her. She scoffed haughtily.

“More like go to  _ bed _ . This baby has been using my spine as a hammock for the last hour, and I just want to lie down forever.”

Mitaka laughed, a carefree and exquisite sound, and let her lean against him groggily. Hux wondered if that’s what he looked like when Mitaka took care of him only just a day ago…

“Then I think it is safe to assume we should take our leave,” Hux said, downing the rest of his wine.

Ashara flashed him a tired smile before abandoning Mitaka to throw her arms around Hux’s neck. Hux’s body was stiff as a dura-steel panel, but Ashara either didn’t care or didn’t notice. Hux was betting his entire salary on the former.

“Thank you for giving us a chance…” she whispered in his ear, before kissing his cheek. Just as Hux was about to return the hug out of politeness, and perhaps a twinge of fond feelings, Ashara pulled away.

“Com us if you need anything at all!” she said, going to her husband’s side. 

Mitaka assured them that he would do so if anything was amiss. Hux hoped he did not mean _ anything. _

_ If he means  _ anything, _ in a serious way, I sincerely hope he won’t use them as a safe house to run away from me if it ever came to that… _

Tyris shook Hux’s hand and gave him a knowing look, one that was urgently pushy. Hux knew exactly what he was referring to, and forced himself to control his inner urge to give a snarky reply.

In a matter of minutes, and a thousand eager goodbyes and well wishes from Mitaka and the tired eyed Ashara, the event was finally  _ over _ .

Hux had never felt more relieved.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Mitaka commented cheerfully.

Hux turned to gaze at Mitaka’s face, surprised to see how alive it was. It was practically glowing from rejuvenation, making him that much younger and liberated in appearance. His smile was blinding, or was that the streetlights behind him? He could not tell anymore.

“Yes…quite lovely…” Hux slowly agreed, thinking less about the evening, and more of the person he was currently with.

 


	12. XII

_ Mitaka _

 

The next morning Hux appeared with a countenance similar how he would when was he on the bridge of the  _ Finalizer _ : dedicated to a goal.

Mitaka could not think of any other explanation to Hux’s stern eyes and focused actions. Even his eating and breathing seemed regulated only as bodily functions, secondary to his mental mission. Regardless of these observations, Mitaka resolved to let him be; he had found in the year of being his subordinate that it was wiser to do so.

This idea was shattered almost immediately.

“Let’s go for a run,” Hux stated rather than asked.

Mitaka looked over at Hux at the sound of the proclamation.

“I thought you wanted to avoid the sun…” he replied, lazily turning to face Hux.

“I already put on sunblock,” Hux said stubbornly, pulling at Mitaka’s hand to get him off the couch. “I did not put on this irritating slime for you to turn me down.”

Mitaka’s hand flopped uselessly back onto his thigh as he gave an irritated groan.

“Headache,” he argued.

“You’ve been sleeping too much,” Hux seemed to decide. “You  _ are _ the one who said you wanted only a three-day reprieve at risk of turning lazy.”

“Yes,” Mitaka growled. “Then you turned it into a three- _ week _ reprieve, so who’s fault is that?”

Hux flashed him an amused grin, obviously not caring about Mitaka’s jab.

“I take note that you get snarky when you are tired,” he chuckled, before returning to his focused glare. “However, no excuse.  _ Get up.” _

Mitaka gave one last groan of argument and stood, glowering at the floor.

“And grumpy,” Hux added. “Also noted.”

“I was happy on the couch,” Mitaka said stubbornly.

“You’ll be happier in the water.”

“Thought you said we were going for a run?”

“Well, we have to  _ swim _ there.”

Realization flashed.

_ Oh…the island… _

“Do we have to?” Mitaka’s voice betrayed a pitiful whine.

Hux paused in his steps.

“Did you really want to sleep more?” he asked, not looking back at Mitaka.

“No, I was enjoying my relaxing on the couch. After a stressful evening last night, I like the prospect of idling,” Mitaka replied, rubbing the sleep from one of his eyes.

“Idling…” Hux repeated, musing on the prospect with some partial distaste. Mitaka raised a brow questioningly.

“That offend you?” Mitaka asked.

“No…No I know you like your private moments. I was just hoping we could use our remaining time wisely.”

“Remaining?”

“Not including today, we have ten days. Half of this leave has been spent on my lack of foresight in the medical department, and I’d rather not waste the rest of it.”

“Here I believed  _ relaxing _ was the point.”

“And spending time with you.”

“What?”

Hux turned away without responding, walking briskly towards the balcony once more. Mitaka stared dubiously at his retreating form with partial apprehension, but followed nevertheless. Hux had proven at the very least that he was comfortable in his presence, but as Mitaka had previously observed, there was something off about him today. A tension in his thoughts; a nervous tick…

Was it the previous night? Something of an epiphany, perhaps? Whatever it was, Hux was planning something, and he was  _ jumpy _ about it.

Mitaka didn’t know  _ what _ the man had to be nervous about. It was just  _ him _ after all. Wasn’t it Hux’s intention to break the authority barrier between them? They had finally done that, but somehow the fidgetiness had jumped personas in the process. Was this planned all along? Was there something else afoot? Did Hux actually have an ulterior motive to all this? Was that the cause for his “mission face”?

A splash interrupted his thoughts, jarring him back to reality.

Hux surfaced from his dive and swished his hair out of his eyes in the same fashion that he did on the first day, sending little iridescent specks of water everywhere with his dramatic motion.

“Come on, then!” he urged, waving an arm. Mitaka sighed and shook his head in admission.

“You  _ did _ put on lotion, then?” he called, sliding his shirt off so that he was only in his athletic shorts.

“Before I even asked you, like I already said,” Hux said, sounding impatient. He was waiting, however, instead of just swimming off for Mitaka to catch up. 

It seemed he was making  _ sure _ Mitaka was going to follow. This made him let out a sigh, before diving in himself.

The water was as blissfully cool as he remembered, and the temperature helped ease his headache.

Once he was treading water, Hux led the way through the crystal waters. There was no urgency in the pace, but lethargy was hardly present. Mitaka had to force himself to keep up, his weary mind becoming a burden on himself.

The sandy shores were a blissful coming, and he flopped uselessly against the powdery land. Hux stood over him with an arched brow.

“Getting out of shape?” he asked.

“Tired…”

Hux planted himself next to Mitaka’s lying form, casually sitting and soaking up the sun’s warmth, no longer fearing death from its rays.

“You had plenty of sleep. I suppose you were right about laziness…”

Mitaka’s temper flared, though it was illogical for it to be. He stifled the offense and covered his closed eyes with his arm, blocking the harsh light of the sun above.

“Instead of poking at me about my  _ obvious _ languor-“

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Mitaka’s eyes widened at the abruptness of Hux’s response, and made him temporarily speechless. The sound of the water on the shore and the singing birds seemed to magnify his silence.

“About?” he urged at last. 

Hux bit his lip before speaking.

“Last night was…” he trailed off.

“Enlightening? Difficult? Uncomfortable?” Mitaka listed.

“Last night was all of those things, yes, but it was also clarifying.”

Mitaka stared at Hux’s pensive expression in bewilderment, before sitting up to regard him properly.

“Clarifying how?”

“That I have misused you for a year.”

Mitaka started before quickly rambling many assurances that Hux had done no such thing, but it seemed his companion was having none of it.

“No, I have. I hardly noticed you at all, even though we conversed every day. Reports, commands…”

“I’d say it is  _ because  _ of the reports and commands you didn’t take notice.”

Hux’s face studied him as Mitaka continued.

“Why  _ would _ you see anything else? There was no reason to. What was one lieutenant compared to the countless subordinates who also reported to you every day? What was I but a faceless gear in this machine the First Order has become? It probably was not until the abuse started on Kylo Ren’s part that made me stand out.”

“Does…that bother you?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Well, of all things to catch my eye, it was a victimized introvert, rather than the exemplary talents of a lieutenant that never failed to go above and beyond his duty.”

Mitaka’s eyes narrowed.

“You…view me as a victimized introvert?”

“No, no,  _ no _ !” Hux quickly denied, before rethinking. “well, I mean…at  _ first _ …”

Mitaka’s expression remained unimpressed. Hux explained.

“Look, it was an inaccurate assumption without any basis other than your injuries caused by another, and your lack of socializing.” Hux shook his head as though to clear it. “Forget I mentioned it…”

Mitaka scrutinized Hux’s expression and felt the embarrassment radiate around the general.

“You’ve been tense all morning,” Mitaka observed. “What is the matter with you?”

“What  _ isn’t _ the matter with me?” Hux muttered. “I am absolutely  _ useless _ in conversation.”

“You’ve been alright these past 10 days.”

Hux scoffed with disgust, much to Mitaka’s surprise.

“Oh believe me, when I have an ulterior motive, I become an eloquently sneaky  _ bastard _ , able to sift through other’s personality with purpose. But this,  _ this _ is where I lack.”

“Ulterior- what are you talking about?”

“I  _ lied _ , Mitaka!” Hux snapped impatiently, bursting with a sudden violent anger.

Mitaka jumped at the abruptness of it, but was more stunned by the meaning by his words. Hux’s face softened and released a harsh breath as though to expel the annoyance.  His eyes wandered to the shoreline in front of him, avoiding Mitaka’s eyes like a child.

“I didn’t want a leave because I was  _ tired  _ or  _ frustrated _ . I wanted a leave to tear your personality apart for observation. To test you. And if needed, to  _ break _ you.”

The waves upon the shore suddenly became deafening, maximizing the abrupt silence that the two men were thrown into by Hux’s confession.

Mitaka dug his feet into the sand, opened his mouth, closed it, and finally flopped onto his back on the beach, staring up at the blue sky in exhaustion.

“I see,” was all he could come up with as a response. 

Hux made no indication that he heard. He kept his eyes forward, stubbornly refusing to look upon the assumed hatred Mitaka must have felt.

Understanding, however, was all that Mitaka felt. A sense of  _ explanation _ to their entire time together, and why it had felt so  _ wrong _ . But he could sense that there was a change in Hux that was apparently not bargained for, and the internal struggle within the general was palpable. And the increasing duration of silence was only worsening the internal combat.

Mitaka did only what he knew to do.

He sat up and placed a hand on Hux’s stiff freckled shoulder, pulling him closer to speak directly in his ear.

“You know something?” Mitaka said.

Hux didn’t respond. Didn’t move. Didn’t make a sound.

“I may be stupid for always being forgiving and easy,” Mitaka smiled “But I do know when someone feels guilt and as a result has an introspection.”

Hux’s eyes moved before his head did, staring widely.

“You’re not even angry?” Hux made a scoff of disbelief. “Just like that?”

“You’re forgetting I allowed Kylo Ren to attack me a few times with no animosity, even though he was guiltless. But I know  _ you  _ are sorry _. _ ”

He gave Hux a side grin.

“Besides, it wouldn’t be  _ you _ if you had simply  _ asked _ to be my friend.”

* * *

_ Hux _

 

_ “You first tell yourself it’s because you find them interesting.” _

Hux shook his head and kept his eyes focused ahead of him.

_ “Then you say it’s because they are a great person. _ ”

He growled at the unwarranted thoughts.

_ “Then, before you know it, you can’t stop thinking about them.” _

He felt his pace slow.

_ “And being separated from them is agony.” _

Hux skidded across the sand to stop himself, his breath coming out in hard pants, though he wasn’t tired.

The previous night’s dinner haunted him, plagued his every thought. Ashara’s husband, Tyris, was insistent. Tyris was passionate, and there lay the problem. Hux was passionate, but when it came to applying that passion to another person, it belayed weakness. 

_ You become dependant on them, boy. _

Hux suppressed a shudder as he sat on the Naboo lake beach, not wanting to hear his father’s voice in such a place as this. 

_ Shut up. I wouldn't become dependent on him. _

He heard Mitaka likewise slide after passing him. He jogged back with a concerned expression.

“You’ve been in bed too long,” Mitaka said with a comforting pat. “Body must still be catching up.”

“Yes,” Hux agreed, thankful that an excuse was made for him. He bent in half, allowing his elbows to rest on his knees. His hair fell over his face like a ginger fringe, but didn’t bother to brush it back.

“Yes,” he repeated with a sigh, allowing himself to relax his posture in a very uncharacteristic slump. 

Mitaka joined him with a worried look.

“Do you need help back to the house?” he asked.

Hux shook his head.

“No. I just need a moment. I’ll be fine.”

They sat in comfortable quiet, just listening to the birds in the trees as they sang their mating calls to each other like flirtatious lovers.

Hux breathed the smell of brine filled lake water and caught a whiff of Mitaka’s sweat. He dared not breathe too deeply, lest he get carried away. He threaded his fingers in the sand next to him, wanting to have peace in his own mind once again. He blamed Tyris for his troubles. It was his words that prompted him to tell the truth, after all. He didn’t even sleep; he was so caught up in them.

_ Damn you. _

There was no doubt in Hux’s mind that Mitaka was the fire he desperately wanted, but refused to allow him to hope that he was obtainable. It was just wrong. Their worlds, while very close, were too different. Hux was alone and powerful, so much so that he did not have an equal (he blatantly ignored the voice that recalled Kylo Ren as co-commander) and led the entire first order with perfect efficiency. Mitaka was a cog in the machine, but not an important one. He was an officer of the flagship, but he was not in high command.

Hux yearned more than ever to breach the barrier, but knew it would be unfair to the both of them in the end. They would inevitably be separated some way or another. Either society would do it or Hux’s stupidity. He betted on the latter.

He wanted to be the caring person that Mitaka was. He wanted to show that side every chance he got and have him see how much Mitaka could change him. 

But Hux was selfish. Selfish, stubborn, dominating, and unaffectionate. He had to  _ remind _ himself of other’s wants and needs. He had to  _ remind _ himself to be nice. He forgot occasionally that not everyone was as sternly work centric as he was, and forgot that others had  _ feelings _ other than loyalty. 

What did he know of these feelings? He was hardly shown affection when he was a child, and that certainly did not change as he got older. What more could be so wretchedly twisted than a life-long isolated man trying to show an emotion he never even believed existed? Impossible.

He felt Mitaka’s closeness more than he could see it. It was a strange buzzing, a pull, a gravitational sensation that something miraculously wonderful was upon him, but never with him. The metaphoric glass wall. It was a fragile barrier, one that would shatter at the smallest hit, and he knew the shards would cut them. But to get at the man on the other side? Oh universe, what were a few scrapes worth? Not nearly enough to stop being with  _ him _ .

_ It has been decided. _

“I’ve begun to be honest with you, Mitaka,” Hux murmured. “honest with no pretense. I hope that…maybe I can reflect your own talents there. You’ve been the best example for me.”

Mitaka flushed at the praise, and Hux’s chest swelled with pride at having put it there.

“I…thank you, Hux,” he murmured.

“I hope you can keep being my example in the future,” Hux continued, shifting closer to him. Mitaka eyed him curiously.

“I will if you’d like. I suppose it will be harder to be casual once we go back to rank, but I would like to keep this friendship going.”

_ Friendship. _

The horrible word that was a cheap shot to the gut. It was gag worthy. Hux cursed the very word with savage abandon internally.

“And share with Thanisson?  I think not.” Hux said instead. 

Mitaka laughed a little.“Possessive much?” 

_ Yes. _

“No, I don’t think  _ Thanisson _ would share.”

“That’s true, I suppose,” Mitaka admitted with a one shoulder shrug. “All right, so he meets me one day, you another. You don’t  _ have  _ to be friends with him.”

“I do not want that, no,” Hux mused, staring down at the mere inches between them.

_ Shatter it. Smash it.  _ Destroy _ it. _

“Mitaka, I…it will be hard, yes. But I’d say it’s worth it, no?”

“I’d say so. When you never have had a friend, and suddenly you have one, I would almost expect you to make an effort to keep them.”

_ Yes…keep him… _

“With your permission, of course. I think that is of the utmost importance.”

Mitaka laughed again, shaking his head.

“You don’t need my permission to be my friend. I invited you in. Besides, it’s just me. Not really spectacular, you know.”

**_Enough of this._ **

“I’m not asking you to be my friend, Mitaka…” Hux said flatly. 

Mitaka’s face switched to concerned immediately. 

“I don't understand. You said…” he trailed off, the hurt in his voice stabbing Hux in the chest. But Mitaka regained composure before Hux could say anything. “What  _ do  _ you want?”

“I want…” 

What did he want? Sex? What Ashara and Tyris had?  A mix of the two? 

“ _ More _ ,” he decided.

Mitaka quirked a brow and shifted slightly away. 

“More? But I...I’m not…”

Hux felt unnecessary panic rise through him. 

_ No. Do not reject me. You  _ must _ consent. Or else I can’t have you. _

In his state of fear, he reverted back to what he knew best; intensely unrelenting in his manner. Bluntness instead of coaxing. Audacity instead of integrity. 

“Mitaka, I have to ask something that has been on my mind since we first spoke,” Hux said suddenly, moving his face closer to him. 

Mitaka moved even more back in trepidation at their newly discovered close proximity, but Hux didn’t care. He was so close that the longer strands of his hair brushed against Mitaka’s cheek and could feel the warm breath on his face.

“Why is it that you are so inclined to believe you are anything less than extraordinary?” Hux breathed, his aquamarine eyes boring into Mitaka’s brown ones. The audible gulp that came from the shyer man was heard by both and Hux blinked as a response.

“I…” Mitaka began, but his voice failed him. He tried again,“I don’t…” He failed once more. 

Hux’s lip tugged upwards into a smile before parting and letting an exhale to escape him.

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short, Dopheld…” he sighed. “I won’t allow it…”

Mitaka gasped silently at the usage of his first name, and jumped to his feet, leaping away from him as though Hux were a dangerous creature. Hux could feel icy dread in the pit of his stomach.

“I…I think we should go back,” Mitaka said nervously. “It will soon be midday, and the lotion will have worn off by then.”

_ No no no, please, NO... _

Hux nodded stiffly and followed him as they swam back towards the domed roofed house that they had come to call “home.”

The first time Hux brushed him in the water, Mitaka made no comment. He probably took it as an accident. They were, after all, swimming quite closely. He kept going forward, though this time he moved away to give Hux more room. But Hux only followed as they reached under the shade of the trees, closely brushing him once more. Mitaka glanced his way in confusion, but was partially splashed as Hux moved even closer.

Before he could ask if something was wrong, a pair of hands stopped swimming and took Mitaka’s face. They pulled him in towards Hux’s awaiting mouth.. The hands were firm in their grasp, and the pull was more of a yank.

When Hux imagined kissing Mitaka, he always pictured it being warm and slow and sensual. Not this cold, waterlogged, and awkward snogging, full of accidental teeth clacking. He was allowed two seconds before being shoved off harshly, putting some distance between them.

Despite the confused and perhaps partially hurt expression on Hux’s face, Mitaka’s expression refused to be sorry.

“No,” Mitaka firmly said “I will not be played with.”

“Phel-”

“ _ No!”  _ Mitaka silenced him harshly, throwing water at him as he denied him.

Hux wilted under the tone, and Mitaka took this an opportunity to keep swimming. He kept his gaze ahead of him and swam as fast as he possibly could, reaching land in no time at all. His breathing was labored by the time he walked up the balcony steps, and a flush had overtaken his face and neck from the exertion.

Hux followed, his heart being cleaved as easily as the glass barrier. He felt stupid; he had forgotten the most obvious of points about breaking glass.

Shard wounds  _ hurt.  _ And they hurt more than anything he had ever felt before.


	13. XIII

_Mitaka_

 

As Mitaka’s bare feet scratched against the rug in his favorite sitting room, the secured privacy of locked doors allowed him to express his tumbling feelings. The uproar in his center and the shock of what had transpired earlier in the lake not hours before had overtaken every thought in his mind.

Right after Hux had kissed him so suddenly, and after Mitaka rejected/refused him, he holed himself away in the very room he stood in now, and did not emerge even once. Not even to prepare them a meal. He had even paced for a few minutes, sat down, got up, walked around, seated again, only to get up, and pace some more. He couldn’t sit still, his mind was so aggravated.

 _To think he_ fancies _me! He_ can’t. _Impossible!_

That he should receive confirmation of amiable attentions beyond friendship from a superior officer was unheard of, and even less so when it was someone of _Hux’s_ caliber! The shock of the occurrence was immediately taken to be a mock of Mitaka’s easygoing countenance, for who could possibly ever wish to know him in such a way? No one ever had before, and for his first to be _Hux_?

_No. He is a manipulator. He has admitted so himself._

Turning to the unlit fireplace to stare at the bed of ashes, Mitaka allowed his thoughts to wander to the conceptualism.

_What if I had accepted him?_

Hux would most likely would have taken things as far as he liked, and when he liked. He probably would have slid a hand where it shouldn’t be, or brush his leg in a sensual coax of domination. He would have made Mitaka submit to his every whim and be selfish in his wants.

_He is a brute._

But he was not a _stupid_ brute. He no doubt would try again, and this time he would attack savagely. He would probably snarl and force his acceptance. He would-

Mitaka turned away from the fireplace and collapsed onto one of the couches.

No, the more he developed this ferocious character, the less likely it was true. Hux didn’t express any anger when he swam back after him. It was only pleading sadness. Mitaka could think that Hux would attempt a pity tactic to lure him in, but Hux was assuredly too proud for that. Mitaka allowed his mind to tumble across every detail from the expression of Hux’s eyes, to the feel of Hux’s lips and tongue on him, conjuring theories, conspiracies, and concepts of every kind and of every ending, until his brain screamed for no more.

Hux’s sin was unforgivable, he decided.

While women could be courted by men, same gendered couples were not given that luxury. There was no courting process or open relationships to last some time, only to be thrown away later. If two men or women decided to become a couple, they were bound for life, so no one else would be tempted to have a liaison with them, and potentially lower the rate of reproduction.

Therefore, for Hux to make such a move, and be sincere, could only mean two things: Hux either would make him an offer for a union in their lives, or elicit a secret affair that would result in their mutual unhappiness and potential punishment.

But Hux was _not_ sincere, Mitaka was sure. At least not at first. He was willing to use Mitaka and tarnish his reputation irreparably. Mitaka’s status had already taken damage, but he could accept it. It was by his own doing and that was something he could live with. To have it tarnished by someone else’s cruelty was inexcusable, especially if it was for the benefit and will of only one party.

But now Hux had gone through a change, and while Mitaka was happy that Hux had, that did not mean there wasn’t still that devious characteristic buried under what had become good. There was no proof that Hux would ever fully turn away from it. Mitaka had no desire to be the object of Hux’s attention. He could not allow himself to throw it away on anything less than his personal standards.

The torture of these thoughts were devastating. Mitaka finally succumbed to his deepest feelings of worthlessness, throwing himself across the couch cushions and weeping bitterly.

For half an hour, the tears flowed freely. Then it was a trickle of controlled breath. Then at last came the numbness. He could feel neither hatred or sadness towards the events; it was a dull apathy with a double blade that touched his inner demons, stirring them from their long slumber. The exhaustion from extended human contact with little time to oneself was secondary to the violation of his private space and expectations.

He knew what to expect in the First Order, which was one reason he liked living in a world of protocol and routine. Take him out of this sanctified bubble and he was a nerf in spotlights. He could only cope with so much change at a time, especially when he was so institutionalized.

Institutionalized…how _fitting._

The First Order had done that to so many. Made them dependent on routine and cycles and agendas. If he wanted to go even deeper, he supposed that it had made him dependent on the very walls of the _Finalizer_ , the uniforms, and the _sameness_ that painted over every single thing.

Even Kylo Ren was not immune to the control: he was bound by protocol and higher powers, as much as it probably infuriated him.

 _I wonder if that’s why he tears apart the Finalizer…to feel_ something _in this world of grey._

Mitaka sniffed at the sudden ashy smell that had overtaken the room. Making a face, he sat up on the couch to see that the air was slightly hazy.

_Fire._

He leapt up with emergency induced sprightliness and had reached the door, only to hear a shout on the other side.

“Don’t worry, it’s out!”

Mitaka stared at the decorative door in front of him before backing away slowly. He had almost left the room. He had almost faced Hux. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He still wanted to get his thoughts in order.

Deciding to do just that, he sat on the couch and considered Hux as a person.

He was general, a high ranking officer; much higher than Mitaka could ever hope to reach. He was a stiff, practical, and strategic man who was raised on the ideals of an officer. He never had a childhood as far as Mitaka could tell, and as such never learnt to properly socialize.

_That’s no excuse._

Hux’s upfront and rather random kiss had sent Mitaka in a whirl, only to be solidified as he was called “Phel.” Mitaka didn’t _want_ a relationship with him. That was impossible. He was a general and far above him. Mitaka didn’t have the self-depreciation to allow himself into a potentially toxic union. Hux takes and takes and takes, but does he ever give? Not ever. Mitaka gave him all the affection and love he would to a friend, and Hux, as hard and apathetic as he was, starved for it. He was an insatiable fool for thinking that Mitaka would just roll over and let him have all Hux wanted.

As far as Mitaka was concerned, there was no more patience to give. He offered friendship to him, and Hux rejected it for something more devastating. And that, to Mitaka, was a sign of how selfish Hux was. And he supposed the worst part was that Hux had simply _expected_ Mitaka to just allow him everything. Yes, there was a nervousness at the start, but he fully expected him to submit in the end.

So when Hux was rejected, the look of surprise and hurt that had crossed over him was indescribable, and while Mitaka was empathetic, he could not bring himself to feel sorry for his actions.

It was here in these thoughts that the door chimed for entry. Mitaka, feeling more confident in his feelings and opinions, allowed the door to open.

Hux entered with a tentative air, dressed in some of the Nabooian clothes that Ashara had found instead of his First Order PT garb. He did not approach Mitaka directly, and only made his way to the fireplace, where he began to use it to its purpose.

“I suppose I am having pyromaniac tendencies now…” he joked to the empty air, the words hanging awkwardly between them. Mitaka made no answer. Hux seemed to wilt under the pressure, but kept his hands busy by continuing with the logs.

“Actually, the first one was an accident. I’m absolutely useless in the kitchen, except to perhaps burn the place dow-”

Mitaka could stand this no longer.

“What do you want, Hux?” he interrupted, voice flat and vague.

Hux paused at the sudden question, but took his time in lighting the fire. He was searching for an answer, and Mitaka was impatient for it.

“And don’t give me something you _think_ I want to hear,” he warned as Hux stood up from his crouched position.

He sighed at the condition, but relented.

“All right,” he conceded, turning to face him. “I came in here to explain.”

“Explain?” Mitaka echoed, unimpressed.

Hux seemed to check himself, his nervousness amplifying.

“Not _apologize_?” Mitaka pressed impatiently.

“A…apologize?” Hux said dubiously.

Mitaka did not respond verbally. His sharp gaze was answer enough.

“But…why?” Hux asked under the pressure. “I have nothing to be sorry for. My feelings are not a lie, and they are quite real and rather irksome to deal with.”

Hux saw immediately he made an error as Mitaka shot up from his seat and exploded in a ball of incredulous anger.

“Irksome!?” he cried.

Hux was quick to give an excuse.

“I don’t know what to do with them!”

“ _That_ much had been obvious!” Mitaka snapped. “And how am _I_ supposed to feel with that information? That your feelings for me are _irksome._ Am I supposed to be _pleased_ by that?”

“No!” Hux shook his head violently, growing frustrated. “Just allow me to admit that this is not easy for me! Am I to subjugate myself to masochism? That I supposed to feel _happy_ that I don’t know where or why the feeling came, and to be denied relief as though my suffering doesn’t matter to you?”

Mitaka incised at this and whirled around to fully regard him.

“You are truly ignorant if that is your impression. I _rejected_ you because I do not feel the same way, and will not make such an important decision as that on a pretense other than my own happiness and respect, of which you have robbed me of. How can you be so selfish as to think that I would accept the person who directly caused the unhappiness of three families in adolescence? How can you think me _appreciative_ of taking me to Naboo to interrogate and manipulate me, only extend the visit to three weeks, of time which I would have been happy to spend with my beloved sisters?”

He allowed the information to sink in properly, the heat of the room from the fireplace only half noticeable in comparison to the temperature of Mitaka’s words. Collecting his thoughts, he managed to quell the deep uncontrollable passion in his rage.

“I once had an admiration for you, Hux,” he continued, quieter. “I truly did. But that was before I discovered the a bitter, work-obsessive, affection-starved, sociopathic _droid_ you have revealed yourself to be. In what way could you have tempted me to see you as something I would want to spend my life with? You have taken everything I have given, and only asked for more. I am no longer willing to give, when there is no reciprocation. A relationship is a two-way hyperspace route, Hux. And until you realize that, there will _never_ be a union between you and I.”

Hux scowled, but made no answer. He paced around the room agitatedly, his expression wild with angry discomfort. Mitaka had struck the core of the problem, and Hux was floundering. His expression was disturbed, and drawn in. He wasn’t quite there with Mitaka, lost in his own labyrinthine mind. Eventually, he realized where he was, and had to say something.

“You’ve made your opinion clear, Mitaka. I…I understand.” He turned away and reached for the door. “These _are_ serious faults, but I don’t how to fix them...”

A pause of trepidation.

“I confess, I believed that you were the key to doing that…but it seems that was an error as well.”

And with that, he bade goodnight, and slipped from the room.

* * *

 

_Hux_

 

Hux collapsed onto the soft bed, feeling like the pit of his stomach fell out of his body and was floating in the lake. Waterlogged and bloated, the sickening ache made him dizzy and lethargic.

 _I lost him_.

Loss…loss was a new feeling to Hux. In order for loss to be felt, there had to be feelings of belonging and possession, both of which he had experienced acutely with Mitaka. How could this all go wrong? He expressed his feelings to Mitaka, was clear he wanted to be more than friends, but yet…

His consent, his _will_ , was just not there.

Hux rolled over so that he was staring at the ceiling, feeling the sheets slide across his body in a fake caress. His gaze was blank, vacant, too overwhelmed from within that anything outside his mind was secondary, and sometimes altogether disregarded.

Mitaka didn’t care for him anymore. At one time, he did. But now, he decided that Hux was no longer in his interest. And the cause? That was plain; Hux himself did it. And Hux had done it so spectacularly that there was no going back. If he was a fool for being upfront, he was a complete idiot for not apologizing for it.

Hux wondered if Mitaka knew the extent of his feelings for him; if he knew just how much he deeply wanted to be with him. The separation between them when they were friends was tantalizing, but now that all amiable feelings have been done away with, Hux could feel the betrayal and the hurt claw its way up his throat and burn in his eyes.

_No._

The simple refusal to cry was ignored, and while he did not make a sound, his tears stubbornly escaped. How quaint. He could not control his own reactions, and that was a sure sign that his restraint was no longer what it was. That was dangerous. If he was like this in solitude, then what would happen if he were in Mitaka’s presence? No doubt any semblance of command would crumble in an instant.

He let out a sigh and glanced over to his comlink.

_Ashara…_

Making the necessary preparations, the plan was set, and Hux slept fitfully.

Mitaka was in the kitchen by the time Hux emerged from his room, using all of his academy skills to keep his face impassive. It mattered little when he entered, since Mitaka kept his back to him, fully aware of his presence.

“Mitaka, I think it best of you spend the next couple of days with Ashara,” Hux said. Mitaka paused, and turned away from the pan where he was cooking a strange form of meat.

“Why?” he asked.

“Our shuttle won’t arrive for another two cycles.” Hux said honestly, having called the _Finalizer_.

Mitaka did not turn back to his pan. He remained motionless, expectant. Hux cleared his throat awkwardly.

“And…after last night, I think you no longer desire my presence. It may be best that we part ways.”

“So you keep Varykino?” Mitaka grumbled.

“You have friends elsewhere,” Hux snapped, being harsher than intended, “I would be killed in an instant in public.”

Mitaka finally returned to his cooking, his movements jerky and far more strained than they were before.

“Fine,” he conceded. “If only to help Ashara with the upcoming baby…”

Satisfied with his agreement, Hux left him, having no intention to set him further on edge. He felt guilty for furthering Mitaka’s distress but his temper was on edge.

 _You’re running. You’re running. You’re_ running _._

Hux shook his head and returned to his room to pack his non essentials, remembering the conversation with Ashara the night before.

_“Ashara, I need your help,” Hux opened, not even offering a greeting._

_“Oh? What can I do you for?” Ashara’s nonchalance made it clear she was expecting him to be terse. He did not fail her._

_“Take Mitaka.”_

_“What?” Casualty turned to curiosity. “Why?”_

_“We…_ I _made a mistake,” Hux admitted. “He’s not happy. I don’t think that…I think us being in the same house will only make it worse. Before I reassign him to another leave destination-”_

_“Wow, this is serious,” Ashara interrupted. “Just a day ago everything was fine…”_

_“It’s sudden, I know.”_

_“What happened?” she demanded. Hux paused_

_“I…don’t want to talk about it.”_

_“Will I hear it from Mitaka?”_

_“Most likely. And he will do better to explain, I’m sure. I myself am not sure of the full extent.”_

_Ashara seemed to ponder over the matter._

_“Did you tell him how you feel?”_

_“I…alluded to it.”_

_“And?”_

_“It did not end well.”_

_“Oh Hux, I’m sor-“_

_“No. Ashara, no. Don’t.”_

_Ashara tilted her head in confusion, but did not pry._

_“You want us to take him in? For how long?”_

_“A couple of days. Just until we can get a First Order transport to get us out of New Republic space.”_

_“All right. Have him come down to the station. Tyris will meet with him mid-cycle.”_

_“Thank you, Ashara.”_

_“Hux.”_

_“Yes?”_

_“You said you only mentioned your feelings…perhaps you should give him the full picture.”_

_“It would do more harm, than help.”_

_“I’m not saying it will help your case. I’m simply saying that honesty will give you both a clean slate, no? Start you on the right path of healing”_

_Hux tapped his fingers against the nightstand beside his bed and nodded, coming to a decision._

_“All right. I will.”_

_“Good. Have a good rest, Hux._

_“The same to you.”_

_A thought came to his mind._

_“Ashara, wait,” Hux called, stopping her from disconnecting._

_“Yes?”_

_“How much longer?”_

_“What?”_

_“Until they’re born.”_

_“Oh…” Ashara seemed taken aback by the question. “Any day now. He’s growing really fast, and the doctor said I could give birth now and he’d still be healthy.”_

_“He?”_

_“Well, we’re not really sure, but I_ know _it’s a boy.” A pause. “You probably think I’m a silly woman.”_

_“No, not at all,” Hux found himself saying. “I…actually think it’s endearing.”_

_He could feel a lump in the back of his throat and quickly exchanged goodnights before disconnecting._

Now, hearing Mitaka leave the building, a sickly mixture of painful awkward relief and melancholy settled over the house. Steps echoed, walls bare, and light dimmed. Suddenly the beauty of the planet disintegrated into the grey he had grown accustomed to in his solitude. he thought it best to return to work, but in a different intention than military matters and conquest.

His fingers ached by the time he finished the letter, and darkness had fallen over the world. He had not anticipated for it to last so long, but the truth had to be told in its truest form, and its sincerity had to be heard. He was no poet, but he knew clarity. Reiteration and explanation was his allies, and his vulnerability would make Mitaka see that he had been changed. If he failed, then he lost nothing. Mitaka was already gone.

As his finger hovered over the send command with last minute jitters, his work comlink went off. Hux visibly sighed as he saw that it was from High Command.

 _What do_ they _want?_

He answered.

“What is it, Admiral?” he asked, impatiently. “I am on leave.”

“So I was told by your crew,” an elderly voice responded. “But this cannot wait. We’d like this to be settled without delay.” His tone set Hux on edge.

“Why? What happened in High Command?”

“Two of your crew members happened, General. Broke First Order nuptial law. We need your input since they are under your jurisdiction.”

Hux sighed and checked his datapad. Indeed, it was full of messages from the various offices and command members, demanding immediate reply. It was rare for this to be so pressing, so obviously what happened was severe. He went straight to the report and glanced at the person in question.

His mouth dropped to the floor, and it took some time before he was able to collect himself.

“Admiral, how long has this been in the system?” he asked.

“Only for a cycle. He has been notified of his crime and all parties involved have been contacted.”

He perused the report and his stomach twisted further and further into knots, like his intestines had become snakes and were eating his other organs.

_Mitaka…_

“Thank you for telling me this, Admiral. I shall return as soon as possible. In the meantime, keep this quiet for as long as possible.”

“Noted, General.”

When the admiral disconnected, Hux scrambled to his other com and called Ashara. No answer. Cursing, he feared the worst. What if Mitaka knew? What if he was associated? What if he was _involved_ ? Did he _know_ about this? And if he did…

Hux tried not to think of the consequences, and allowed his brain to fly into a panicked frenzy. How could he get back in time? How could he take care of this? How could he stand by and let this potentially ruin the very person he had come to appreciate and respect?

Hux glanced back again at his work comlink and knew there was only one way out. With deft hands, he set up the frequency and waited for the connection.

“What is it, Hux?” came a familiar irritated voice on the other end.

“Ren, I know we have our differences, but I need your help.”


	14. XIV

_ Mitaka _

Ashara had given him a warm tea upon his arrival, a gesture she said only came when it was needed. He knew instantly that she had some inkling of what had transpired between Hux and himself, but was courteous enough to let  _ him _ decide when to discuss them. Tyris, however, was not so welcoming. He merely showed Mitaka back to the house, but upon their arrival, disappeared into the back rooms of the house. He couldn’t seem to meet Mitaka’s eyes, and spoke even shorter sentences.

While this was disturbing to Mitaka, Ashara was perfectly capable of distracting him. As soon as he arrived, she pulled him away.

Now, sitting on the couch, with untouched lukewarm tea in his cup, Ashara listened to every detail of what caused him to be given the cold boot. Well…technically he was glad to go, but he still felt like he was being estranged because Hux didn’t get his way.

When he had finished telling her about the kiss, his rejection, the argument, and his reasons for refusing, Ashara was strangely quiet. Tyris, who had hung awkwardly by the door, stared at the rug with the intensity of a wildfire. After a moment of basking in the expectant silence, Ashara finally spoke.

“He did seem very disturbed over the holo-com,” she murmured. 

Mitaka raised a brow, but waited for her to say more. When she didn’t, he pressed her. She sighed and placed her own herbal tea on the caf-table, folding her hands in her lap.

“I don’t know what to say, Phel. Obviously he was wrong to do that to you, there’s no denying that.”

Mitaka blinked when she paused, and then watched as she decided to say no more.

“But?” he urged. 

Ashara shook her head, refusing.

“Do you blame me for rejecting him?” Mitaka asked instead.

“No, I don’t,” she assured quietly. “I probably wouldn’t have accepted if I was in your position.”

“Then what is with your silence?” he asked calmly.

“I just…” she sighed again, the conversation obviously difficult for her. “I knew he harbored feelings for you, but I didn’t know he was going to violate your comfort zone. Has he explained anything?”

Mitaka shook his head.

“No. I don’t know what he wants, and I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with him. Not anymore.”

“Not  _ anymore _ ?” Tyris spoke at last from his brooding. 

Mitaka’s gaze went to him and their eyes met.

“No,” Mitaka stated. “If this was all a ploy to be my friend, I can oblige him with forgiveness, but this,  _ this  _ kind of relationship is final and life ruining, and I cannot forgive him for it.”

“You can’t blame Hux for it all, Phel.”

Tyris exhaled, moving from the wall to stand behind Ashara’s chair. He placed a hand on her shoulder as though reaching for strength.

“I told him to act on his feelings. And I’m sorry. I didn’t know that…I didn’t know he would go to such drastic measures.”

Mitaka stared in absolute horror at Tyris, a look shared by Ashara.

“Tyris!” she cried in disbelief.

“I honestly didn’t know!” he defended himself. 

Mitaka took this moment to place his tea aside to flee the room and the consequential argument that was beginning. He didn’t mind Tyris’s actions so much as he hated seeing couple’s fighting. He chose then to move to his given room, where all his possessions lay in a bag, untouched since his arrival.

To keep himself busy, and tune out the growing voices from the living room, he decided to put his clothes away in the drawers provided, and check his messages. Organizing always made him feel at ease, almost as though he had a grip on his life. the whole galaxy could go to ruin, and he still would feel all was well if he was organizing. Cleaning, no, that was different. Organizing was just a sign of efficiency and order, something he had grown to depend on.

Once his clothes were put away, he turned on his forgotten datapad for the first time since arriving on the planet. As it lit up the dark room in its pale blue light like a salvation, he could feel its warm comfort return to him like an old song haven’t heard in years. Scrolling through notifications was a breeze, since they were either  _ Finalizer _ wide announcements or, new protocols put into place. But one stuck out like a spike to the eyes.

_ Hux…messaged me? _

He swallowed hard and debated for a moment if he should check it. Curiosity and stubbornness battled for dominance, but the former triumphed. Tapping the message tentatively, he was met with large blocks of text, of which he read with eager eyes.

_ To Dopheld, _

_ Mitaka, do not presume this is a letter that is a curse to your rejection, or an insistence of the returning of your feelings. That, I have no desire to ever force upon you. However, I must speak that which I have kept from you from dread of abhorrence or hatred upon me, of which I fear I already have caused regardless of my actions to avoid it. _

_ There are two points of which I must discuss that you most likely have the most questions about: my past, and my intentions. One is a simple matter to pen, but hard to feel for. The other is easy to feel, but nearly impossible to take into words. However, I shall endeavor to do my best. _

_ The first is my upbringing, which I have failed to be completely truthful. _

_ I was raised on a planet called Arkanis, one I know you to be familiar with. It is a rainy, grey world with no aspiring attributes other than its hostile mugginess and ambitiously sterile people. My father was a man of high standing in the community, for he had opened an academy for future officers of the empire, and afterwards the First Order, a sure way to rise the economy and activity. However, the fall of the Empire had made him into a hard man, one that could be called cruel and hateful if anyone tried to get past the posters and pedestals people branded him with. _

_ My mother was a fashionable lady who deemed me as a mere trophy to show off to her friends and peers at common social gatherings. However, that was all my purpose was to her and her society. My father, on the other hand, had a very different plan. Instead of a trophy, I was a burden. My childish exploits were ridiculed until I ceased to do them, and were replaced by a man’s goals. I was kept away from other children, for fear of possible assimilation into their imaginative worlds. _

_ The only blessing that came from having such distant ill-treating parents was the fact that I could find peace in the solitude. I found myself often in the kitchens with the servants, until father discovered my secret hideaway and fired the entire staff, banning me from their company. There was one woman in particular who seemed to watch particularly over me, but never once did she approach me or speak to me other than to get me out of trouble. After father removed them all, I was then followed by a nanny droid who did nothing but what it was programed to do. Its “personality” components were removed, so the AI was limited to only bodily needs, household protocol upkeep, and scheduled routine. _

_ When I finally did meet other children, I had long since desired their distance from me, trained by the solitude that I had so much. However, I knew that allies were a must. Being “thin” and “useless as a slip of paper” made me want for power, and I achieved first with my name, and then my personal reputation. I did violent acts at the smallest insult, and rewarded loyalty with favors (of what kind, I’m sure you are aware of). _

_ I will not delve into the day by day meaninglessness of the academy, since you are fully indulged in what that life is like. I will, however, make note of the four instances I took violence too far. Yes, four, I did not miscount. There is one that I have never mentioned to anyone, to which you shall know the truth soon enough. _

_ Kiran was a quiet person who kept to himself. His talent was to keep things nonviolent, and even expressed that it was superior to fighting. I was confused by him, since anyone expressing such ideas as this was normally dealt with swiftly. He made it all the way to the battle simulations, which made me take action. We did become active with each other, and I mentioned his name once to my father in passing. I was commanded to “weed out the weak” from the herd. _

Mitaka gave out a soft exhale, and felt a wave of pity for poor Thanisson. How little he knew… Mitaka continued reading.

_ At that time, I worshiped the ground my father walked upon, and did all I could to please him. Kiran’s murder was assuredly the easiest way to his love, I told myself. After the deed was done, I realized that I had achieved nothing. Guilt had not settled in me, however. A second candidate came into play. Atticus. _

_ This one was…upfront about positivity and complimenting people. Easy-going and genuine in his kindness, I once more was drawn to him at first to discover his true personality. I’m sure this is now sounding familiar. Once again, we became active, and it was through these activities that I discovered that he pitied me. Though I was someone to be saved. Looking back now, it’s obvious that I needed to be saved, or at least lead in the right direction. But the young me did not think that for a second. I acted out of impulse, the violence I had come to depend on became instinctual. He was dead in a matter of seconds. _

_ The third and final boy that lay victim to me was more of an Arkan-rat. We never were active and we never conversed. I don’t even remember his name. He would goad me into anger occasionally in the early days, but eventually learnt not to tread on me. I suppose he took it to heart though, since he sought to put dirt on me. And should it have come to light, his would have succeeded indeed. _

_ On a few occasions, he called me a bastard, and at first there was no reason for alarm. Until it suddenly was. I don’t know how to describe it, but there was an eagerness to his eyes, and an impatience about him the last few times he said it that made me second guess its meaning. I cornered him one night and he all too readily (and with great enjoyment, I add) showed me that I was exactly what he called me; a bastard. _

His hands shook as he read, disbelief impugning his stability.

_ You never asked me why I was born in a kitchen, and why I was laid in a large pot as a baby. If you had, I don’t know how I would have reacted, but that is the reason why. My father, when he was still an amiable sort of person, had an inappropriately placed liaison with a kitchen maid, and resulted in a pregnancy with me. I pause here to add that he was married to Maratelle, his wife of at least four years prior to when I was conceived. _

_ Needless to say, I knew he had to go. So he went. Dead, that is. _

_ I confronted my father after graduation, and was startled by his nonchalance by the subject. He had apparently been questioned by many different people about this very subject, and I was just another, never mind I was the son in question. He mocked me for feeling anything. _

_ And here lies my final murder. _

Mitaka gasped and placed a hand over his mouth.

_ I have not been back to Arkanis, and I shall not return. There is nothing there for me. I have long since accepted that my life there was one of misery and ill repute, and so I shall not look back on it as anything but time wasted. It has no more bearing on me than the last time I sneezed. However, that is not to say that I have not learnt from those experiences, which brings me to my second subject. _

_ Mitaka, it is not easy for me to describe how I feel without reducing myself to the literary equivalent of that ghastly book about Amidala and Skywalker. However, I shall endeavor to be less nauseating. _

_ While it is true that my endeavors in the beginning were similar to that of when I was still in the academy, I did not ever anticipate that your words and actions would affect me so. In the past, I was blinded by my own self-righteousness, and never heard a word of what my partners said. But you, you changed that. Suddenly nothing was simple anymore. It was all so deep and multifaceted that I could hardly make sense of it. I was…intrigued by more than I had ever experienced. _

_ The more I learnt, the more I wanted to know. You became the object of every thought I had, the very purpose of my day to day waking. I was dependent on your good opinion of me, for when I had lost it, I felt as though nothing made sense or mattered. I was in denial for so long that I was not dependent on you, but it seems I have no choice but to admit it. I am dependent on you to be alive and well in this universe, and still think of me with a kind heart. _

_ I felt a connection to you that made me look at you and never look away. You bewitched me in everything you did from the one shouldered shrug, to your one sided crooked smile, to your fabulous dishes, to your comforting hands on my wounds. I am a starved man from grace and affection, and you gave both so freely and wonderfully that I hardly knew when to stop taking. _

_ I never authorized you to break me, Phel. And you shattered me…you obliterated everything I had ever come to think I understood. You came into my life, silent as ever for a damned year and then you made me question everything the moment you said nothing. The word “nothing.” “I am satisfied with what I have,” you had said in our first real exchange. You with so little, want for nothing? It’s impossible! I was content before I had met you and you just demolished that contentment as though it didn’t matter. You changed everything. In an instant, everything wasn’t the same, though nothing had changed at all. _

_ And the universe above me, I cannot express my gratitude enough. _

“What…?” he whispered to the empty air.

_ I know now that boundaries are conventions, such as the boundary of rank between us. I suppose that if that can be transcended, then all barriers can be broken, but only after believing it possible. I once believed loving you was unfeasible; that I was incapable of such a make-believe thing. But now that I have felt that which I had never felt before, I can confidently and readily proclaim what I have been denying for too long. _

_ I love you, Dopheld Mitaka. _

Mitaka swallowed the lump in his throat and read the line again.

_ I love you, Dopheld Mitaka. _

And again.

_ I love you, Dopheld Mitaka. _

And a third time.

_ I love you, Dopheld Mitaka. _

_ I love you. It is such a relief to finally express these words, but with bitter-sweetness. It is in vain, I know. _

_ My actions as of late have not been seen with a forgiving eye, and I realize that wholeheartedly. I accept that you do not feel as I do, and probably never will. At one time, I would have asked myself if it was because I am useless to you; a burden to your calm world of sense and goodness. I, this power of anger and arrogance. But now I see that it is through no fault of your own. In fact, you are wise to reject me. _

_ I also know I am the cause of that, and that fact shall haunt me more than any of the sins I have committed. However, know that whatever happens in the future, it is because of your goodness that I have left a better man than before I knew you. _

Mitaka had to blink rapidly to stop the wetness in his eyes from escaping. It was no use.

_ On my home-world, there is a spiritual belief that there are millions of universes in millions of timelines, within millions of dimensions, and we all have a place in each. Our relationships bind us together with other souls that rebound across these places in existence, and each transcend into something different. In this life, we are soldiers, but in another, we may be kings. In this life, we are comrades, but in another, we are enemies. _

_ In this life I shall never have you. There may be thousands of lives where I could have you and you have me, but this just happens to be the one where it shall not be. _

_ I know there is a better life for us, in another universe’s timeline and dimension. Perhaps there we can find each other. Perhaps there we can find our peace. But until that is discovered or bled into this reality, I shall endeavor to conciliate with all that is my own personal pandemonium. _

_ Yours, in Perpetuity, _

_ Hux _

“Mitaka!”

Tyris’s panicked voice made Mitaka drop the datapad and rip him out of the narrative that Hux placed him in. Angry at being interrupted, he picked up the pad and shoved it into the back waistband of his pants.

“Y-yes?” he couldn’t help the shakiness in his voice, though from what, he hadn’t processed yet. Tyris didn’t comment on it from behind the closed door.

“Ashara’s in labor! We have to go!”

His panic suddenly made sense.

All thoughts of Hux’s letter vanished as Mitaka went into emergency mode. He couldn’t help but feel a guilty relief from being needed in a crisis, and even as he led the way to assist, he allowed himself to revel in the familiarity of the sensation.  The whole way to the hospital, the words of Hux’s letter taunted him like a whisper in a dark room.

_ “I love you, Dopheld Mitaka…Yours, in Perpetuity…” _

He could feel his throat close and eyes burn every time he heard the echo, and despaired that it was vividly in Hux’s voice.

* * *

_ Hux _

 

The familiar cold of the ship was the only comforting thing Hux could appreciate about being on this particular shuttle. The disrepair of it made Hux more than nervous about its clearance for flight, and its driver was…well, Hux didn’t know if he was even  _ trained _ to fly. He didn’t know a  _ thing _ about these people.

He was on edge for more than just the company and lacking quality in the vessel; Mitaka would have read the letter by now. 

The conversation with Ren was short, and only distracted him for a few minutes. By then, he had decided to just send it before he thought too much on it. Immediately, he felt dread and worry course through him. He had put every feeling he had in that letter, and it Mitaka was disgusted by it, then it was for the best they would never be. Or at least, that’s what Hux tried to tell himself. If he were truly honest with himself, He wanted nothing more than for Mitaka to forgive him as he always had done and…

And what? Live as a couple for the rest of their days? Register with High command? Make it legal? It was obvious Mitaka had no intention of having an affair. He was a sort of person who didn't want trouble, and Hux could understand why. He had enough on his plate no doubt.

_ His friend certainly has no qualms about it, however…If he was thinking clearly about the risks involved then he never would have put Mitaka at risk for further disgrace. The selfish Slimo... _

Hux scolded himself for thinking that way. Mitaka saw something in him, and Hux was no judge for character. If Mitaka liked him, then there was reason for consideration. 

Hux shifted in his seat uncomfortably as a disheartening thought crossed his mind. Perhaps the only reason why he had an affair was because Hux had killed his previous potential significant other, and vowed to take what he could while he could get it. The guilty in question met after he was married after all. Hux resisted the urge to throw up.

_ If this is true...then it is my fault that Mitaka was ever put in danger. _

A sound from the across the table interrupted his thoughts, and made him grimace.

Hux decided that he needed to retract his previous thoughts that the letter was the most unpleasant feeling he was experiencing. No, the most discomforting aspect of this particular trip was the  _ unwavering stare that the being across the table was giving him. _

The Knights of Ren were an entity that Hux had really only seen in passing, and never associated with too much. They were Kylo Ren’s business, not his. He wasn’t sure if they were force-people like Ren or not, since they didn’t seem to carry lightsabers. But the Jedi didn’t flounce their weapons around either. Who really knew what the Knights of Ren were? What was obvious, however, was that they were warriors. Apparently there were a number of massacres caused by this band of dark misfits, and allowed no survivors. That was one aspect of their anonymity: they didn’t allow anyone to live to reveal their existence.

Hux supposed he  _ should _ be honored to know them and be “graced” with their presence without being on their murder list, but given the attitude of their  _ Master, _ he wasn’t sure if he was feeling any emotion other than irksome trepidation. He was not the man in power here; he was the annoying, yelling, ginger general who fought constantly with the Master of the Knights of Ren.

He was at their mercy.

At first, Hux tried to be polite to the “Grid” knight, as he called him (or her) in his mind, praying that none of them could hear his thoughts. He attempted civil conversation about their mission and if it was going well. No response. He then tried to ask if they traveled a lot, hoping that would evoke a reaction. Nothing. Just a blank stare. After asking after further information about their mission, the other knights, and even Kylo Ren himself to only be met with that unnerving stare and silence, he lost his patience.

“Do you even speak basic!?” Hux snapped rudely.

It was at this moment that “Grid’s” master entered and motioned for them to leave. The knight did so with a slight inclination of their helmeted head and a hand on their weapon. Hux watched the exchange with interest, but it was over as quickly as it began. Kylo Ren took “Grid’s” spot and gave him that same stare. Hux gritted his teeth in agitation, but Ren didn’t dwell in the silence for long.

“We just entered hyperspace,” he began. “we should arrive back in First Order space in a few hours.

“That’s nice.” Hux mutters, glaring at the slit in the mask where his eyes should be. He hated being so vulnerable in this situation. He was used to being in command, and being in control. But have to stoop down  _ this low _ as to ask his adversary for  _ assistance _ …

“Odd that you should ask for my help…” the knight mused with slight humor.

“Even stranger since you agreed,” Hux snapped back. Kylo Ren didn’t react.

“You mentioned terms,” he countered. “That’s what we are here to discuss.”

“And yet you picked me up…”

“The very least I will do is return you to the Finalizer. We were heading there to resupply anyways. However, if terms prove beneficial to a degree, then I am willing to do more.”

_ Strange for him to be so willing… _

“Fine,” Hux sighed. “What do you want?”

“Before we get to that…” Kylo Ren cocked his head to the side much as a creature would with an extreme sense of curiosity.

“What is it that you want my help  _ with _ ?” he asked. 

Hux scowled, not quite ready to divulge that information. As a result, to steer away evasively, he nitpicked at the only thing he could think of.

“Take that mask off. I will not do deals with a black slit,” Hux snapped, motioning towards his own face. 

Ren’s head righted itself in partial surprise, but barely hesitated in the removal.

The shock that Hux felt at what was before him couldn’t be contained by any military stoicism.

There had been many rumors and speculations about Kylo Ren and what lay beneath the mask. It was the central point of gossip ever since he arrived on the ship as the dark entity who lurked in the shadows and attacked with no warning. Only a selected few knew his origin, and even less had seen him.

When Hux heard of Kylo’s birth name in the laws set by the Supreme Leader, he didn’t think much of it. The second time he perused them (he was angry enough with the knight to check them for any loopholes allowing “serious injury” or “minor maiming,” which it did  _ not) _ it gave pause. He  _ knew _ that name, Solo. The third time he caught sight of it in Kylo Ren’s file, the full extent hit Hux like a Star Destroyer collision.

_ “Obi-Wan ‘Ben’ Solo-Organa.” _

Ironically, the same file said that Kylo Ren killed Ben Solo in the massacre of the Jedi school, so he managed to reason that the file was just as much of a conundrum as the person was. Therefore, he still considered Kylo Ren as a potential species other than Human. Unlikely, but possible. But here and now, staring at him with an expectant half glare, was the truth.

Young face, partially mismatched and intoxicatingly beautiful in its rogue charm and regality. It was a face that hid nothing, that betrayed all the inner workings of the mind. Chaotic and whirling, Kylo Ren lived up to  _ both _ his forebears. They too were chaotic in their own way, and that had certainly been passed onto their unfortunate son.

Hux paled, Lord Ren flushed, almost expecting a harsh word or reaction. Hux swallowed and only allowed his response to be strictly in his mind.

_ It seems I really _ have been _ dealing with a child all along… _

_ “Don’t insult me, I’m only a few years younger than you.” _

Hux almost fell out of his seat at the sudden foreign voice in his mind that belayed heaviness and pressure of the utmost discomfort.

“Alright, alright enough,” he groaned, trying for nonchalance even as his mind screamed. Instantly, the invasion ceased and all was back to normal. Hux could have moaned in relief, if he were not in anyone’s presence, much less present company.

_ Of course. Keeping comments to the mind are useless with you. _

The black knight narrowed his expressive eyes in response, and tapped his fingers on the helmet in his lap impatiently.

“Your terms,” he mumbled, his voice now entirely different without the mask. Smoother, calmer, and far less ready to attack. Almost a melody. Hux suddenly was beginning to see why he used the mask besides anonymity.

“There is someone I need to meet with,” Hux replied vaguely.

“Where?” Ren demanded.

“The Outer Rim. First Order Space.”

“This is very little to go on Hux…” Ren sat back in his seat, which seemed too small for him. With the mask off, he seemed larger, more real, and far more readable. Hux definitely appreciated that much. He may not be a preferable Co-Commander, but here and now he wasn’t so bad.

He thought and judged too quickly.

Ren seemed to take Hux’s silence as stubbornness and lifted his hand from its previous place on the mask, holding his fingers out so that they were almost touching Hux’s face. Instantly, the pressure returned, and Hux couldn’t stop the wince and the grunt that came over him. He shook his head slightly in vain attempt to force Kylo Ren’s hold off of him, but to no avail.

Unwanted intentions surfaced and came to the forefront of his mind. As soon as they came, the pressure released. Hux gave a loud choked noise as it left him, catching his breath as he attempted to regain semblance of control. Ren, on the other hand, had lost whatever coolness he had been expressing before, and his face betrayed an extraordinary mixture of confusion, bewilderment, and even…envy?

“This is…interesting,” Ren said quietly, almost to himself.

 


	15. XV

_ Mitaka _

 

Comforting husbands was as natural as breathing to the ever experienced Mitaka when it came to wives delivering. He had plenty of experience when he was younger, and given his military training to remain calm even in disasters, he was crucial to Tyris’s sanity.

However, Mitaka was simultaneously within and without the reaches of his own control. The itch to return to the letter and pour over its contents a second, third, or even a hundredth time, to break it apart and put it back together again, to search for hidden meanings and understanding from every possible angle was  _ excruciating _ . Every shift he made caused him to be acutely aware of the datapad burning and digging into his lower back. But circumstance and his moral code would not allow it to tempt him. Now was not the time. Now he had a duty to watch over a nervous soon to be father.

The man simply wouldn’t sit  _ still _ . Tyris was a ball of anxiety and worry, so severe that he wasn’t even allowed into the delivery room. And so, he was left to the ever calm Mitaka, who knew all the stages of labor by heart though experience and cautionary study.

Mitaka’s patience, however, had its limits; the arrival of Ashara’s infamous brother, Noki, saw to that.

Broad shouldered, his emerald skin stretched over powerful muscles that betrayed a strength more in physical capacity than the mental. His dark eyes were drawn in and suspicious, and once they rested on Mitaka with Tyris, they became absolutely abominating. His stride was a show of power and force, meant to intimidate.

Suddenly, Mitaka had a higher respect for Tyris if this was his in-law.

Noki towered over Mitaka’s seated form as his glare bore down on the shorter man. Mitaka was not afraid. Noki, while big and mean spirited, was not malicious like Kylo Ren. Though if he proved to be as short minded as he was notoriously short tempered, Mitaka deemed it worthy to remain cautious. Regardless, he felt confident in handling this “tempest of a teaspoon” when comparing this to a regular day reporting bad news to Kylo Ren.

“You must be that… _ officer,” _ Noki began, his deep accented voice rumbling in his chest like an earthquake. 

Tyris shifted uncomfortably. Mitaka met his gaze.

“I am Mitaka, if that’s what you are asking,” he replied in all politeness.

“Ashara said there were two of you,” Noki jabbed, leaving no room for question.

Mitaka merely shrugged a shoulder with nonchalance.

“Not here, and unlikely to be.”

Noki, seeing that his bait was still dangling, changed tactics. He slid into the seat next to Mitaka, leaning heavily over into his private space. Mitaka merely glanced at what little space he had as acknowledgement as Noki’s chest puffed out.

“So, how are things in the Outer Rim?”

The question made Mitaka flinch, which Tyris noticed right away. It was a small reaction, but Mitaka heard the hidden meaning just as much as the next person. This was exactly what they wanted to avoid. He could feel the discomfort, the awkwardness. There was no room for not answering without accusation of being rude.

“I don’t exactly have full knowledge of the Outer Rim’s happenings in the military,” he said. “I don’t have much on anyone’s happenings, really. We are secluded primarily by borders”

“Oh? So then where do you get your ideas on the Republic from, if you don’t have any idea what happens?” Though Noki’s tone remained conversational, but Mitaka could feel the tension from Tyris, who was shooting warning looks and even shook his head. 

Either Noki didn’t notice them, or he was masterfully ignoring the signals. Mitaka managed to gather his bearings, taking a glance around the room. Seeing nobody within earshot, he deemed it safe enough to respond.

“We each build an opinion just like anyone else,” he said, clearing his throat. “I cannot say what others think of the Republic. Or the First Order for that matter. Both have their faults as well as their benefits.”

Noki scowled, obviously not satisfied with the reply.

Mitaka felt a swell of smugness rise up. A neutral and well based answer for someone fishing for an outburst or radical opinion to argue. Noki was obviously trying to get a rise out of him, using Mitaka’s situational vulnerability to his advantage. But Mitaka was determined to not let him win, that much was certain. All Noki had achieved so far was make himself look the attacker on an innocent bystander. And Mitaka’s calm neutral demeanor did that.

“I’ve always wondered…” Noki asked, changing the subject. “Would the First Order accept my kind into ranks?”

“ _ Nokarion _ !” Tyris hissed in a partial scolding, but a hard stare from Noki silenced him.

“No, it is fine, Tyris, I assure you.” Mitaka waved his hand in dismissal. “If he is curious, I have no qualms over telling.”

With that, he placed his fingers into a steeple under his chin.

“To get to your question, Noki, I’m afraid it is not so simple. See, your question within itself is a bit of a jumbled mess…”

Noki sneered at Mitaka’s comment, his fists clenching on his thighs.

“The kriff do you mean?” he demanded.

Mitaka had to stop himself from smiling. It was obvious what Noki was asking, and it truthfully was a dangerous subject. But he hadn’t spent so much time in Hux’s presence on the bridge without picking up a few tricks. He had studied it all too often when Hux would get that casual glint in his demeanor when bantering with Kylo Ren (someone whom Hux could not insult openly and brutally in public) on the bridge.

“You see, for one, you asked if the ‘First Order’ would accept you into ‘ranks. But it is not the First Order that is in charge of that particular aspect. The navy or militia is. The First Order doesn’t have rank. It’s not a military; it’s a government. A form of management over several small systems that have no ties to the Republic whatsoever. As to the somewhat self-deprecating tone in which you express ‘your kind,’ I simply do not understand. Your kind as in, a non-trained military persona? Or your kind as in a citizen of the Republic?”

Mitaka paused to allow Noki to process and react (a shift in weight that meant he was considering bodily harm to the smaller man). Tyris meanwhile was picking his mouth off the floor.

“If the former,” Mitaka continued boldly. “No, you would not be admitted into the military without training at the risk of your safety as well as others, though you would be more than welcome into citizenship. If the latter, I do not see a reason why not, if you so wished to change allegiance.

“On a more personal note, I would refrain from either. You see, as officers, the General and I have come to understand that being callous and accusatory is hardly any way to act towards subordinates, peers, and superiors in the army. I do not think the military is for you. As for the First Order in general, many people from where I come are very ardent about politeness and unfortunately for you, it is considered rude and obnoxious to interrogate someone in an attempt to shame them in a public place, especially when they have no ill will towards you at all. Best stay with the Republic, I think. You’re more comfortable here.”

_ Sharp as a slap to the face, but passive aggressive enough to not be considered offensive. _

Noki on the other hand didn’t share Mitaka’s idea; he seemed very much offended. So much so, Mitaka could see his hands trembling and flexing, as though he wanted to put them to use in more destructive ways. Mitaka could feel that he knew he had lost, and deemed it proper to say no more. If Noki wanted a fight, he would have to try sometime else, when there wasn’t such an important event taking place.

It seemed that while Noki didn’t agree with Mitaka on much of anything, he was subconsciously doing so. He may have threatened to act upon his anger through tense body language and occasional twitchy hands, but it was apparent Noki was bearing all the restraint he had to avoid doing so. Mitaka, regardless of disliking him, respected Noki for it.

 

By the end of six long hours of panicked babbling nonsense from Tyris, resolute chivalry from Mitaka, and brooding silence from Noki, a nurse arrived to tell them congratulations. All worry melted from Tyris’s face, as he practically ran from the waiting room to see his wife and newborn. Mitaka felt his joy and giddiness and got up to follow, only to be shoved down back into his seat by a large jade hand.

“Family only,” Noki proclaimed triumphantly, before following Tyris down the hall and out of sight.

Mitaka stared after them stupidly for a second, before wishing he had Kylo Ren’s lightsaber and a useless console.  He stewed for a moment, tapping his foot angrily against the reflective floor, before getting up suddenly and following the path his companions had set out before him. The nurse recognized him halfway there, and led him the rest of the way. He thanked her warmly before entering the delivery room.

The familiar smell of bacta and blood washed over him as he passed through the threshold. Before he even got to see where Ashara was, a feral growl ripped through the air, and Noki took up his entire view.

“Nokarion _ ,  _ he’s my friend!” Ashara’s voice called from across the room. Noki didn’t turn, and instead snarled at Mitaka.

“Get out.”

“That’s not for you to demand,” Mitaka replied, looking around him to see Ashara lying in bed with a bundle in her arms.

“He’s right,” Ashara agreed. “It’s  _ my  _ decision who stays and who goes. And if you can’t be in the same room as him, I suggest  _ you _ get out.”

The power in her voice was unquestionable and her brother recognized it. Slowly, reluctantly, he stalked from the room and shut the door with a fist to the controls as he left. Mitaka let out a sigh of relief as he left, and eagerly approached the bed where Ashara lay with Tyris kneeling by her side.

“It’s a boy. I  _ knew _ it was.” Ashara proclaimed proudly. 

Tyris rolled his eyes, telling Mitaka instantly that this was a constant banter between them over the course of the pregnancy. Mitaka only smiled and nodded. Ashara sat up a little and turned the swaddled bundle so that Mitaka could see.

Having never seen a human-Twilek baby before, Mitaka wasn’t sure what he expected. His first thought was that they were essentially miniature versions of one of the parents, but it wasn’t so. Instead, the child was very human like with the exception of a few blotches of skin that were pale orange instead of pink skin. Furthermore, the lekku were only just peeking out from the back cranium in its early developmental stages. He was a perfect mix of the two, and surprisingly mellow for a newborn.

“We’ve named him Seth,” Tyris said. “After her father.”

“Seth Dopheld T endoora,” Ashara specified, holding him out for Mitaka to take. Mitaka just stared dubiously at them, tentatively taking the child into his arms.

“You…” He couldn’t form a thought. Ashara smiled and held Tyris’s hand.

“I wanted a way to say thank you. You put me at ease these last few weeks about all this, and I really needed all the support I could get. I never thought I’d get it from a First Order Officer, though…”

“Surprises come from every corner of the Galaxy, Ashara…” Mitaka uttered at last, before cracking a smile. “But I question the name choice.”

“Why?” Tyris demanded.

“Think of how awful his teasing is going to be if he has such an unfortunate middle name.”

Ashara laughed and shook her head decisively.

“Seth should be proud. He’s named after two of the best people I know.”

Mitaka left them soon after to allow the brother (and consequently the brother’s pride) back into the room, and to potentially revisit the letter that was lurking in the waistband of his pants. He returned to the now populated waiting room, and sat close to the door where there were less people. Sliding out his datapad, he flicked back to the letter that had plagued him so.

Hux’s complete history and telling of his childhood was astonishing and downright cruel. The truth was proven by his social awkwardness and belligerent means of conversation tactics. The unfeeling nature Hux had shown was a direct result of being scolded for feeling anything at all, and his abhorrence to feeling something new could only be described as terrifying to Hux. His stand in mother and the droid did little for his character, and his father even less. Hux was a product of suffering, and he had carried that to academy and beyond.

The academy... The three murders Mitaka had heard so much about in his youth in rumors and whispers, was now fully explained and given context. The why and how were in his hands, and he could just feel himself break a little. It was something he had hoped to never learn the truth about. He had feared it, yearned for it to be proven a vicious lie as an attempt to slander Hux. But now, after hearing Hux speak and write about it, there was no more room for excuse. He had pleaded guilty, and bore some of that guilt if only just recently.

_ “And here lies my final murder.” _

He killed his own father…Mitaka supposed that in being taunted for something so deeply rooted in a person’s core as the need for parental affection (and from someone who was the paternal slot) would be enough for anyone to fall apart after so many years of abuse and abandonment. But to kill him? He supposed it was logical, given Hux’s tendency to resort to violence when under extreme anger and stress at that time in his childhood.

_ “I am a starved man from grace and affection, and you gave both so freely and wonderfully that I hardly knew when to stop taking.” _

He understood then. Mitaka had almost thought Hux didn’t when he left. He had believed Hux was firm in his alleged innocence, but Mitaka’s words had reached him.

_ Mitaka _ had somehow reached him. He had done to Hux what others hadn’t, and that was touch his soul. The others were tools to Hux;an end to the means of his own personal endeavors, and Mitaka had somehow eluded his charms and turned the tables against him. How? What had he done that was so different? It seemed that not even Hux knew.

But there lay in his core a deep suspicion that it was a lie, that it was a ploy to have Mitaka return to him, that he had done away with pride to play a pity card. He stubbornly decided it was so and his mind overflowed with a stream of thoughts wishing Hux all the pain possible if it were a lie. But what an elaborate lie…and to involve his very own

And once more, he returned to the letter, to the part about his lineage and his birth mother.

_ An elaborate and  _ dangerous _ lie to give, if it involves his reputation is such a personal way. And to divulge this to such a low officer for the benefit of his good opinion… _

Mitaka sighed sadly and shook his head, knowing it cannot be denied any longer. Any sort of truth he had been seeking about General Hux, and his purpose on Naboo was in his hands, and he could not argue any longer.

Now all that was left was the possibility of putting Thanisson’s mind at ease about Kiran. That it was by no ill will on Hux’s part that the man Aeon had been pining for, was killed. That Hux regretted it and-

No, he decided. How would he go about saying it to him? How could he divulge such a thing without reopening his friend’s old wounds? How could he, as a friend, do such a horrible thing in the name of truth? He decided it was best for it all to lie in the dark.

But oh his  _ confession _ ! If Hux was indeed telling the truth, that Hux indeed  _ loved _ him, then Mitaka hardly knew if he had ever known anything before. Something so sure in Mitaka’s mind as the belief that Hux was incapable of ever feeling something he didn't understand, it was almost equal as the knowledge that a human had to breathe to survive, or that gravity was a sure aspect of planetary life.  _ How _ could Hux love him? How could it be  _ possible _ ? Hux hated the very idea of love, wrote it off as a myth or a despicable lie. But somehow, Hux had changed his mind.

_ Was it Tyris? And witnessing what he had with Ashara? _

Mitaka turned off the datapad and shut his eyes in order to close off the busy sights and sounds of the waiting area.

_ Personality swap aside, how could he love  _ me?

The difference in their lifestyles and respectability was so far apart that Mitaka could normally only hope that Hux would spare him a glance. The thought of having Hux’s attention so wholly and sincerely fixed upon him was incomprehensible. What was he in comparison to the highly respected and eagerly sought after General of the First Order?

_ No one. _

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Mitaka’s pocket buzzed insistently. Mitaka flinched as he realized he left his personal com at Ashara’s house. The only one Mitaka had on him was his First Order one. He pulled out the small disk and swallowed hard at the name “P.O. Aeon Thanisson” that blared at him. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, Mitaka slipped out of the waiting room and into a storage closet, the only place he could think of where he could converse with his friend. He flicked his thumb over the answering mechanism, and a small figure of his friend appeared.

“I’ve been calling you all day, you wouldn’t pick up!” Thanisson cried fretfully. 

Mitaka’s eyes widened as he recognized panic written all across his friend’s face. He forwent an excuse and jumped straight to the point.

“Aeon, what happened?” he asked worriedly. Aeon took a shaky breath before replying.

“My wife found out about me…I’ve been charged with breaking First Order Nuptial Law…”

Mitaka slumped against the sliding door of the closet in defeat.

“Phel, I…don’t think we should be friends anymore,” Aeon said slowly.

“Aeon…” Mitaka’s voice cracked.

“You’ll be tainted by association!” Thanisson snapped.

Mitaka scowled and allowed his eyes to become deadly dark.

“I knew I wasn’t going anywhere, Thanisson. And if you think that this will change anything between us, you’ve got another thing coming. You are my friend. We stick together.”

Aeon nodded in acceptance, gratitude pouring from his eyes as Mitaka spoke.

“Get a shuttle to Naboo,” Mitaka said. “I’m coming home.”

“What about General Hux?” Aeon asked worriedly. “Won’t he stop you?”

Mitaka could feel the lie on his tongue before he said it.

“Hux doesn’t care. He doesn’t matter.”

* * *

_ Hux _

 

“Absolutely not.” Hux decided with finality. Kylo Ren glared.

“My knights and I need necessary transportation,” he pointed out, miffed. “It would save both you and I time and resources to have a shuttle for my knights and I.”

His reasoning was sound but the demand was not.

“Of those materials and with that caliber!?” Hux countered, waving his hand impatiently.

“Yes,” the knight replied flatly.

“Ridiculous!” Hux exclaimed, dragging a hand over his face. “I am willing to concede for you to go ahead and search for Skywalker freely, since it’s in the interest of the Supreme Leader but to ask for a 550,000 credit  _ shuttle _ !?”

Kylo Ren snarled and leaned forward, eyes wild and body tense.

“Have you listened to  _ your _ terms?”

Hux bristled.

“What of them?”

“That’s a lot of fuel and time!” Kylo Ren explained. “Time that I don’t have!”

“But you  _ do _ have the fuel,” Hux muttered.

“Hux, my mission was given by the  _ Supreme Leader.”  _ Kylo Ren sounded as though he were on the brink of pleading, obviously not used to explaining himself, not that Hux was surprised by this, _ “ _ And if he finds out that I have abandoned it for personal gain of materials and switched it out for your personal problems…”

Ren did not elaborate, a haunted and vacant expression overtaking him as he retreated into the safety of his thick hair. Hux knew that look, and considered his options while tapping his fingers on the metal table they were seated at.

It would cut deep into the aviation and manufacturing budget, true, but then he would not have to deal with Kylo Ren constantly requesting a shuttle and having it approved by Hux. One less headache. Really it wasn’t so large of a problem, if he hadn’t set aside a large sum to build a superweapon that he had yet to finish designing.

“What is your mission?” Hux asked after a moment.

Ren cocked a brow curiously at the question and hesitated. He eventually caved.

“The Supreme Leader is searching for a new military force for the First Order, and has assigned me to find suitable resources for an army that is unlikely to diminish. He also has commanded on the side that I find a map. To Skywalker. We have some of the pieces but none of them chart anything that’s in the First Order’s systems.”

Hux tapped his fingers against the table in front of him again, thinking.

“I will help you,” Hux murmured.

“What?” Ren’s head shot up from the curtain of hair in surprise.

“Your mission,” Hux specified. “I will help you. You get me to where I need to go, and I will give way to your Skywalker objective, your shuttle, and help you finish these tasks.”

Kylo Ren studied his face with contempt and suspicion.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why what?” Hux replied

“Why help  _ me?”  _ the knight specified. “You hate me.”

Hux shrugged one of his shoulders, accidentally mimicking a certain lieutenant. He felt the ache in his chest return, and didn’t even try to pass it off as sickness or fatigue.

“I know,” he said instead. “I am loathed to admit it, but I am desperate. I will achieve the means to the end, no matter the consequences.”

“For a Petty Officer?” Kylo Ren asked, unimpressed. 

Hux moved his head from side to side, weighing the argument in his head.

“Partially,” Hux conceded. “More for someone else, but I suppose this could be redemption for a crime I have done in my past.”

A flicker of a headache licked at his temple.

“So it is for that lieutenant, then,” Ren decided.

Hux froze at the name. Kylo Ren smirked triumphantly, Hux snarling at the sight of it.

“I never spoke one word about-”

“I feel your emotions, Hux,” he cut Hux off. “They’re a lot less subdued than before you left leave with that Lieutenant. You’re panicking and it’s because of someone else’s well-being. Very odd for someone as selfish as you.”

Hux’s expression darkened as he began plotting his super-weapon’s first target. Granted, it was but one being, but a target was a target, and this being was  _ mocking _ him.

“Don’t mock me,” Hux warned, clenching his fist on the table. “And that  _ Lieutenant _ has a name.”

“I wasn’t…” Kylo replied with a soothing gesture of his hand, though it had the opposite effect. He seemed pleased that Hux was so on edge.

“I was merely making an observation. And what does it matter if  _ Mitaka _ falls?” Kylo rolled the name off his tongue, enunciating that he did know, but likely feigned carelessness just to irk Hux.

“You’ll never have him anyway,” he continued. “You know it.”

The words stabbed at Hux. He had known this, true, but it was another sort of sensation when another spoke them so candidly. And coming from his allied foe, it made it difficult for Hux to merely accept them. This coming from Kylo Ren was unexpected, and wholly unwelcome.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Hux stated. “I don’t expect you to. But if we don’t make an agreement,  _ neither  _ of us will get what we want.”

Kylo’s gaze was examining once more, but allowed Hux his outburst.

“Your reasoning is sound.” Kylo muttered. “But you have to accept your intentions for getting Mitaka are pointless.”

Hux sneered while clutching his fists, a show of buried anger desperate to be free.

“ _ Thank  _ you,  _ Lord _ Ren…” Hux managed to grit out between his teeth. “but I do not require advice from someone who  _ cannot _ have attachments.”

Kylo Ren matched Hux’s expression.

“Do not test my patience! I am not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, general,” he snapped.

Hux refrained from rolling his eyes.

_ ‘Do not test me, do not test me,’ the  _ audacity _ you possess! That’s all you have  _ done _ in this meeting! _

“No, you do this for benefits promised through negotiation,” Hux replied without a beat. Kylo Ren gave him a look of eternal suffering and annoyance.

“Not just that, General.”

He sat back in his seat, staring down at the helmet that was resting on his lap, in contemplation. Hux watched him with interest as he seemed to withdraw once more. But not so much as to suddenly leave a conversation to retreat into the lair he called his quarters.

“I have a debt to pay,” the Knight revealed. Hux didn’t bother to hide his surprise.

“What debt? To  _ Thanisson? _ ”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kylo Ren snarled. “ _ Mitaka _ .”

“Oh, as an apology for your cruelty to him?” Hux scoffed, but jumped at the sudden pressure and jab of pain in his temple. It was like a knife slid into his head, and was roughly pulled out again. No blood, no wound, and no damage. Just the pain. As soon as it came, it ceased.

Kylo was using his powers in the same sense that Hux might deliver a chiding remark for someone’s stupidity.

“I was never cruel!” Kylo Ren cried. “I had no need to!”

“Debatable.” Hux was impassive in his reply, but still curious. “But if not that, then what is your reason?”

Kylo Ren’s stare didn’t waver and the air grew tense between them. There was a physical mass to the space between them that sparked with untamed power. Hux didn’t let himself feel any fear, and instead matched his opponent’s glare.

“Deal,” Kylo Ren suddenly said, the air lightening considerably. “You help me with my missions, and supply my knights and I with a private shuttle, and I shall chauffeur you across the galaxy to do your…whatever it is you hope to achieve.”

“I said my plans plainly,” Hux groaned, though happy they had at least an agreement. “Do I honestly have to repeat them?”

“No, not necessary. But that’s not what I meant.”

Kylo Ren, master of the Knights of Ren, stood from his seat and replaced the helmet upon his head, anonymity once more donned.

“If you truly know that your plans are not for ensnaring Mitaka, then why go through all this trouble? We are, and have always been, selfish people. It’s too late to change now.”

Hux glared.

“Is that what you believe?”

“It’s not a belief. It’s a fact. You were a fool to drive him away.”

Hux got up to argue and even clenched his fists in a show of self-justifying defiance. Kylo Ren merely waved a hand and Hux was shoved back into his seat, an invisible physical manifestation keeping him there. The force had never been used upon him in such a way, and Hux decided he didn’t like it at all. Something that wasn’t there, throwing him around, and pinning him to a chair?

_ Hateful child… _

“People like that are  _ rare _ , General Hux,” Kylo Ren’s modulated voice rang out harshly in Hux’s ears. “If more were half as forgiving as that, men like you and me would be somewhere and someone else entirely, wouldn’t we?”

Hux could not reply.


	16. XVI

_ Mitaka _

 

Leaving was a frenzy.

A rush of hurried words and explanations to the newly happy couple and the perturbed sibling (who switched personas almost instantly at the news) was enough for him to return back to the house to gather his meager belongings and make contact with his ride. Confirming that he had but two hours, Mitaka had just enough time to make one last trip to the hospital to say a proper goodbye.

Ashara embraced him tightly after her husband had freed her hands by holding the newly born Seth.

“Do you really have to go?” her voice was barely above a whisper, a restrained attempt to keep level and not burst into tears. 

Mitaka tried to show the same control.

“I can’t stay.”

She allowed his reply and let out a sigh.

“I know…your friend needs you with him.”

Mitaka allowed her to tighten her hold on him even as she agreed.

“Will you ever be able to return?” she asked into his ear.

His hesitant silence was answer enough. He pulled away from her, even though she gave no sign of letting him go anywhere. She only released him at the touch of Tyris’s free hand on her back, a small gesture of comfort and realism. Her face partially wet from tears, she gave him a parting smile as he retreated.

“I’m not going to forget you,” Mitaka assured.

“Nor I you.”

Tyris’s farewell was more subdued. A handshake and an apologetic look. Mitaka knew it well and made sure to return the glance with his own accepting expression.

“And Hux?” Tyris asked. “Won’t he care that you’re leaving?”

Mitaka considered it for barely a second.

“Given the nature of this emergency, I would not be surprised if he too was called away by High Command,” he replied truthfully, but also betrayed a partial terseness. 

Tyris did not press, and merely offered little Seth to the officer to say farewell. Mitaka gave him a small kiss on the brow and was filled with dread as he looked away.

He was not sure why, but there was an inkling thought in the back of his mind that nagged at him to say something final; that if he didn’t do it now, he wouldn’t be able to ever again. This parting danced on the potential of being more final than just borders between space; it terrified Mitaka.

“No matter what happens…trust that the galaxy will fix itself.”

With that, he left the room, not able to bear the sight of them any longer. The pain was immeasurable, and he wasn’t sure why he was suddenly braced with a inevitability that was conclusive in mortal terms. The only way he could think of escaping the feeling, was by making a swift exit from New Republic space.

Luckily, he had but a quarter hour to wait, and was able to fill that time with wording a message to Hux about his whereabouts as a courtesy.

_ General Hux, _

_ A personal matter has arisen back on the Finalizer. I am sure that you are fully aware of it, but I have to return. I have already obtained passage back to the First Order, but I humbly request that my leave still apply while I am sorting through the issue at hand. _

_ Regards, _

_ Lt. Dopheld Mitaka _

It was lucky that Thanisson worked in the comings and goings of shuttles and transports, because it gave him an advantage of finding a destroyer that was near Naboo, and one that was willing to spare a shuttle. Mitaka was ever grateful to him, and was more than relieved when his shuttle arrived. It turned quite a few heads, (since it came in the daylight) but before anyone could call the authorities or border control, they slipped back through the atmosphere into open space.

Mitaka sat in silence in the cockpit next to the pilot, feeling even more out of place amongst his own people than he did with the Naboo.

More than once, the pilot gave him an evaluating look, focusing on the splash of color upon his clothes and the untamed nature of his hair. He was polite enough with his questions about his leave without referring to his state of attire, but the eyes were condescending enough. It became too much for Mitaka, and he retreated to the back to change as soon as they reached Hyperspace.

Once returning to the cockpit with his full uniform, complete with gloves and hair gel, his pilot companion did a double take and stuttered out his title, Mitaka’s ambiguity lost by the bars on his left forearm.

At once, the private in the pilot’s seat gave him all the credibility and lavishness that the First Order could give, and glorified his achievements of rank, though specifics were not mentioned. Mitaka was disgusted and tuned out his compatriot in a matter of minutes, wishing for the solitude he had so much when he was a child.

Driving the depressing thoughts away of his parents before they formed, he scolded himself for yearning isolation. It simply would not do if he were to be selfish in a time like this. His selfishness in the past of constantly avoiding interaction with everyone, including his parents, was cause for regret after their death. After feeling the pain so acutely, knowing that it could have been avoided if he had simply done away with his introverted nature, he vowed to kill his preference before he lost someone else. He never wanted the guilt of  _ not doing enough _ to ever plague him again.

_ But to deal with this…this ignorance and…and… _

His frustration won out. He retreated to the common area and prayed that the star destroyer was not as far as he felt it was.

As it turned out, the couple hours of salvation in the back of the shuttle saved him from the onslaught of boot-kissers and admirers of his telltale rank and the knowledge that he came from  _ Hux’s _ personal pickings.

Mitaka felt a strange secretiveness in his presence back in the First Order.

The removed feelings he experienced with every whisper of gossiping adoration and wonder from the crew that he was  _ chosen _ were worse than the guilt he felt after his parent’s death. Oh, if only the crew  _ knew _ just for what Hux had chosen him for in reality.

Oddly, the knowledge that he was singled out to be the object of Hux’s desires lurked in the back of his brain alongside with every praise and every commendation. It was a secret that was scratching at the door, begging to be let out of its cell and out to play with the other gossip subjects.

Mitaka wondered for just an instant, that if he had accepted Hux, he would be standing upon this bridge of this small destroyer, the significant other of the First Order’s unquestionable leader of the Military. The power, while unofficial, was absolute.

Realizing the danger of thinking this way, he stepped back and merely watched the officers around him as they planned a jump to return to the heart of First Order space. They worked with efficiency, but lacked the professional air of the Finalizer. Upon meeting the Colonel and commanding officer, he saw why.

The Colonel had greeted him warmly and shook his hand after saluting. Mitaka questioned why the respect and formality to a subordinate in rank, to which the Colonel laughed good-naturedly with a hearty slap to the shoulder.

“You’re one of Hux’s unit. That means you’re a top tier officer!”

Mitaka felt himself wilt at the praise, but forced a laugh and a joke. “Mention that to high command,” or something of the like.

No rank was used among each other unless it were a subordinate speaking to a superior, and even then their speech was completely casual. Mitaka, while shocked by this, could not deny the camaraderie and the warmth that everyone had for each other. These faces were all young and inexperienced, bright eyed and hopeful for a future that was neither weighed down nor tarnished by the pains of battle.

Mitaka felt sick to his stomach with every conversation he held with these people, hating the applause and adoration that breathed from everyone’s lips. It tried his patience and he wondered how anyone could be drunkenly enraptured by such ovation from the masses. Mitaka supposed it was because he felt he didn’t deserve it, but all the same, he didn’t care for it either.

When he saw the  _ Finalizer _ out the viewport, he practically fled to the hanger where a shuttle would transfer him. Arrival was swift and without ceremony, which came as a blessing. Glancing up at the terminal where Thanisson would normally could be seen, Mitaka frowned at the lack of a certain officer.

After dropping off his belongings in his meager quarters, he rushed to Thanisson’s quarters and jabbed at the chime that requested entrance.

Mitaka heard a shout on the other end and a thump. Acting upon instinct and panic for his friend, he forced the override code through the system and burst into the room, half expecting injury or anguish.

Instead, he was met with the sight of a jumbled mess of limbs that by all reason did not add up to only one person, a pile of muscle that was assuredly  _ not _ the lanky Petty Officer who took residence, and anatomical phenomenon that only is seen when one is absolutely exposed and in a state of ecstasy.

Mitaka paled, the two on the bed flushed and both parties stuttered out apologies and explanations that no one really was paying attention to. Thanisson broke the monotony of utterances by sliding off his lover and throwing his arms around his closest friend. 

“I’m glad you came back, Phel…” he murmured in his ear. 

At the genuineness of his words, Mitaka fell apart from all the strain and returned the hug wholeheartedly, regardless of his embarrassment. Thanisson shifted in his hold and nuzzled his face into Mitaka’s shoulder.

“Something wrong?” Thanisson asked, knowing the openness of Mitaka’s fond feelings in such a manner were sign of deep disruption.

“Aside from my friend being charged by High Command?” Mitaka tried to joke, but the humor wasn’t there. Thanisson pulled away and gave him a stern look, one that demanded to be reckoned with.

“Something happened,” he insisted. Mitaka stubbornly shook his head.

“I’d rather you explain…” he trailed off, his eyes wandered to the abandoned lover sitting awkwardly on the bed, a sheet pulled over his waist in a vain attempt at modesty.

“Everything,” he finished. Thanisson glanced back at his muscular significant other and adopted a guilty meek expression.

“I…wanted to tell you. I did, Phel. But…well I - er –  _ we _ thought it best of no one knew. So our acquaintances could claim ignorance. And uh…”

“Aeon, it’s fine. I understand. There’s safety in silence.”

Aeon shakily nodded and almost curled into himself, before being pulled back onto the bed by this mystery person. Thanisson immediately curled up under his arm and kissed his cheek.

“I’m sure you’ve met,” he said, looking at Mitaka expectantly.

Mitaka had to pretend for a moment, but only just. Realization hit him hard, and forced him to take a seat on the desk chair behind him.

Lieutenant Rodinon, his replacement while on leave.

Rodinon and him never spoke. He was relatively new to the  _ Finalizer _ just like Mitaka, but far more experienced. He served on two other destroyers and a planetary base on Ryloth before being plucked around the same time Mitaka was. They worked completely different shifts, and in turn rarely met. In the times that they did, Mitaka never really gave him much thought, other than to pontificate the reddish hair that bordered on dirty brown and to think of how rare it was to have two non-related redheads on the same ship.

He knew Rodinon mostly by reputation alone and word by mouth. He was told that Rodinon set strength records on his home-world, and was extremely well versed in athletic ability. Efficient, but never straying from protocol, it was strange to see him in such a position as this.

“Rarely,” Mitaka admitted truthfully while turning his attention to the other lieutenant. “I hope everything went alright in my absence?”

“Fine,” Rodinon replied, stroking his thumb on Thanisson’s shoulder ever so gently as though to soothe. But the evidence of his body language told Mitaka that Rodinon was not doing it for Thanisson’s sake.

“We met at the gym about seven months ago,” Aeon said. “I was trying to run a mile and beat my record but I passed out on the treadmill. Woke up with him carrying me across the ship to the medical bay.”

Mitaka could not help but smile; while their introduction wasn’t a perfect meeting, there was a partial romanticism about it. Thanisson always did his PT routines between the afternoon and night shifts, when most people were having a meal. It was the only time when you didn’t have to fight for anything, Thanisson claimed. Mitaka never questioned him, and never found out if it was true or not; he was a part of the masses, and preferred to eat before putting the body under strain.

“Liet was always there. It’s his routine before his first shift,” Aeon continued. “I guess you can say that after that happened everything sort of fell into place? I…I didn’t  _ want _ to hurt anyone, but…I just got so tired of standing on the side and just wanting something I couldn’t have legally.”

Aeon started to fall into a slew of apologetic nonsense, which Mitaka stopped with a raised hand.

“Don’t apologize, Aeon,” Mitaka scolded. “Apologizing won’t solve this.”

Aeon visibly relaxed and leaned against Rodinon, who nuzzled his brow on instinct in reply.

“How would you fix this?” he asked, his voice heavy. Mitaka considered Rodinon’s question.

“Is there any possibility to plead not guilty?” he asked.

“None. She called me and opened the channel when we-” Thanisson paused and tapped his fingers against his thigh. “…well, it was kind of the same situation as when you walked in here.”

Mitaka nodded and then was reminded that the couple were still naked. He quickly stood and said he would wait outside for them while they dressed, as to make everyone more comfortable. The offer as gladly taken up by Rodinon and a few minutes later everyone was in order.

“It’s been proven we broke law, and my wife is just…well, she’s angry for one.”

“I can see why, Aeon. There’s a number of reasons why she would be angry. She feels like a tool no doubt. Not to mention this in a way ruins  _ her _ reputation forever.”

Rodinon sighed and leaned against the wall.

“I don’t even think we even thought of getting caught.”

“Most people  _ don’t, _ ” Mitaka responded. “when you sneak around like that, you aren’t thinking logically. If you were, you wouldn’t have taken the risk.”

“I know this will sound selfish, but to be honest, I really can’t make myself feel sorry for this.” Thanisson admitted. “For once, I was completely happy.”

Mitaka did not reply. He could not help but feel more for Thanisson’s wife. Thanisson and Rodinon were being careless, putting another person’s reputation in jeopardy and willing to risk hers with no regard. It  _ was _ selfish. And it was starkly familiar.

_ Hux…Hux would have done the same with me…if he had his way. _

“Phel, you look pale, what’s wrong?”

Mitaka nearly jumped from Thanisson’s sudden question.

“I’m fine,” he assured upon instinct. His friend had none of it.

“No, you’re not.” He crossed his arms in irritation. “Stop lying, you’ve never been good at it.”

Mitaka’s eyes flicked from Aeon, to Liet, and back again multiple times, feeling their questioning gaze on him as acutely as physical touch.

“Hux…we had a disagreement before I left and he strongly suggested I stay with a friend I made in Theed. That’s why I wasn’t with him when you called.”

“You had a disagreement with  _ Hux? _ ” Thanisson cried, before turning horrified as the full statement sunk in. “You made friends with the Republic scum!?”

Mitaka’s expression turned dark.

“Problem?” he asked.

“I…” Aeon faltered, shying away. He changed the subject. “What was the disagreement about?”

Mitaka sighed heavily to steady his nerves.

“Swear to secrecy?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Thanisson immediately replied.

“Agreed,” Rodinon echoed.

At the affirmation, Mitaka then told them Hux’s intention behind the leave, and how he had made it clear he had wanted to leave no stone unturned in his inspection. Their shock was immediate, but he didn’t allow questions until he had finished by explaining a little about the letter he was sent, and the emotions depicted in it regarding their relationship.

“That’s…” Aeon couldn’t finish.

“I didn’t accept any offer,” Mitaka assured. “he was never clear on his intentions once this was sent, but I know I will not receive anything else

“Why not?” Rodinon asked, puzzled. “Why not accept him?

“Because what he did to Phel is shit, that’s why,” Thanisson proclaimed, standing from the bed and hugging his friend. “You did the right thing.”

Considering the person who agreed with his decision just potentially committed the same crime to his own wife, Mitaka felt little to no comfort by these words.

“Look, it’s not worth focusing on.” He pulled away from Aeon. “He will probably forget me and move to someone else.”

Rodinon studied him.

“Do you  _ really _ believe that?” he asked. “Hux isn’t the kind of person to feel much for anyone besides himself or his duty. So for him to risk everything, his title, his reputation, his esteem, his career, and even his personal feelings about affection for  _ you _ , I think that says a lot about what he wants.”

“It. Doesn’t. Matter.” Mitaka hissed. “It’s always been what _ he  _ wants and  _ he _ needs. I spent the entirety of my time on that planet for  _ him _ . It was toxic relationship, and I refuse to hand myself over to that legally, much less an affair that would elicit High Command issues.”

“‘Was’?” Rodinon cocked a brow. “You’re no longer talking to him?”

“We haven’t spoken freely since I left Varykino,” Mitaka explained before turning his gaze away from them both. “And I doubt we ever will.”

* * *

 

_ Hux _

 

First Order homes were usually sparsely decorated and almost always held furniture that was meant to be durable and practical. Perhaps there was one or two points in the house that danced towards the finer things in life, but never really reaching the true status of luxury.

As Hux looked around the almost Spartan home, he couldn’t help but think back to his own lavished childhood estate and the many people who passed through there with infamy.

Grand Admiral Salone, Admiral Rax, Colonel Yularen, and Governor Pryce to name a few. Maratelle was always on the move to achieve either the favor or admiration of these high ranked officers, and did so through lavish parties and dinners that either bored or irritated Hux senior. He would grumble that it was an attempt for her to have an affair, or gain societal regard through connections on the bounds that Brendol wasn’t good enough.

Hux would always wonder why they got married if they hated each other, until he discovered there was such a thing as arranged marriages.

He sat upon the simple couch in silence, and had been there for the better part of a quarter hour. Hux made no attempt to start a conversation with his companion and Kylo Ren didn’t seem to want to talk either. Instead, Kylo Ren sulked in a corner, mostly keeping to the shadows. Hux wasn’t sure why he wanted to come, but if he was going to stay there and brood, then so be it.

_ I wouldn’t be surprised if you are making a stupid attempt to look mysterious and intimidating. _

“You are General Hux, I presume?” a voice cut into the silence, making both men turn.

Hux could barely contain his shock at the woman who entered the sitting area. Her regal stature only amplified her height, which even preceded over Kylo Ren. Her sharp eyes and boyish features were unimpressed by Hux’s uniform and spared only a minute glance at the Knight before approaching.

“Gwenevere Thanisson.” She introduced herself. She did not offer her hand to be kissed as was expected. Instead, she studied them from the other end of the room, unperturbed by their importance or their reputation.

“I suppose this is where you scold me for not trying hard enough?” she stated flatly. Hux shook his head.

“No, Madam. I’m here on behalf of my men.”

“Don’t antagonize me,” she started. “I am not the villain here.”

“I’m not,” Hux assured. “I just simply am asking you claim no ill will, and divorce quietly.”

She scoffed with fake humor, pushing her platinum blonde locks out of her face as though they irritated her.

“After all the unnecessary fighting with both him and your Order’s expectations? I only asked him for a child! A baby so the High Command would stop pestering me.”

“Not all men are perfect-” Hux started, but she was more assertive,

“He could have avoided this,” she insisted. “Don’t you understand that? I tried to tell him over and  _ over _ and he never listened! And now see what is to happen! Either we find an alternative or we face charges of insubordination.”

“I’m aware,” he replied, trying to soothe her. It didn’t work, and Kylo Ren seemed to be chuckling from the corner at Hux’s attempts.

“A woman in my position has no future. Not with this stain on my record and my age.”

“Please, that is not-”

Her expression turned venomous, interrupting him.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Hux let out a frustrated breath and allowed himself to relax his posture.

“…Alright, no,” he conceded. “Marriage is no longer on the table, but I can help you in another way.”

“What could  _ you _ offer me?” Gwenevere shot at him, suspicious.

“A full pardon from high command for failing your duty, though not out of insubordination.” He was quick to add that before she tore his head off. “And a pension for the rest of your life.”

At the offer, she scowled and shook her head.

“Are you a moron?  _ What _ life?”

“She  _ does _ have a point.” Kylo Ren’s voice came from the corner, much clearer than it was when he had the helmet on.

Just as Hux thought, Kylo had removed it. He set it down on a side table and joined their meeting properly.

Hux thought carefully.

She was Mandalorian. This kind of life was probably not in her nature, and was probably coerced into this by arranged marriage between her clan and the First Order. She needed a purpose, a reason. Gwenevere had clung to having a child because it  _ was _ a purpose. But now that purpose has become her undoing. But whether she wanted a child in the first place was hardly the point. She cannot remarry after this escapade, and a single woman is not deemed fit for adoption either. If a woman was single, she had to be useful just as any man would have to be; the first law of gender equality in the First Order.

_ However… _

“What if I offer you a place in one of the academies for officers?” he asked. “Women of all ages join every year.”

“And become like one of your ilk?” Gwenevere snapped. “A self-absorbed officer who commands others to do their dirty work while they sit in the safety of destroyers? That’s hardly honorable.”

Hux could feel the frustration in the pit of his stomach, not just at the insult, but also with how difficult pleasing her was. Before he could react, however, she continued.

“Besides, people would recognize me instantly, and any respect I could garner would be futile.”

His heart lifted again at her words.

“There’s another alternative, if you are willing,” he proclaimed proudly.

“Enlighten me.” Her sarcasm dripped from her tone worse than the melting ice outside.

“There is an academy on Arkanis that I happen to know very well, and have substantial voice over.”

Here, Kylo Ren snorted, but Hux deigned not to reply or react.

“It was built by my father for the storm troopers,” he went on. “I’ve been given your file; Mandalorian by birth, and trained in their martial arts and tactics. I think you would be a perfect candidate to being recruited as a potential officer  _ there _ . And with your experience as a warrior…”

He let the notion hang in the air as she considered the option.

“Stormtroopers…” Gwenevere murmured, placing a hand over her chin in thought.

“Of course.” He egged on. “It may be odd to some but-”

“Female Stormtroopers are not a new idea.” She finished for him. “I am fully aware, General.”

Hux allowed a small grin to come over his features.

“Then we have an accord?”

“Hux.” Kylo Ren cut in suddenly, before she could reply. “how does that solve anything?”

“Simple.” Hux began walking about the room, much in the same way as he would on the  _ Finalizer’s _ bridge. “Gwenevere gets my recommendation, which will assuredly secure her position among the cadets. What she does in the academy is entirely up to her exploits. If she succeeds, she will have thousands of children to raise and train for the First Order military, without the messy politics of marriage and social standards.”

He turned to face his hopefully future leader of his army.

“In exchange, she will drop charges and divorce quietly. I’ll even allow a clean slate and new identity to be given so she can start anew without this little blemish.”

At this, she perked up. She even let a brief smile to take her features.

“Killing two rebels with one shot…” Kylo Ren murmured.

“Essentially,” Hux agreed. “There, Kylo Ren, one of your missions is potentially complete.”

“As much as I loathe to agree…” Kylo Ren’s eyes scoured over the solution in question and seemed pleased with the potential. “The Supreme Leader will be satisfied with the progress. And what of  _ obtaining _ the army, now that we have a leader?”

“Army?” Gwenevere interrupted, looking between them both. “Don’t you have one?”

“Stormtroopers have been on a volunteer basis so far, but not enough to make a significant militia,” Hux explained.

“And clone armies are out of the question with how little funding there is, and the Supreme Leader was explicit on that point,” Ren added.

“But you’re building a legion.” Gwenevere pressed. “Is there to be war?”

“Hopefully that shall be avoided with further developments. But to keep the peace in the territories we have obtained, it is wise to have a militia that can extend that far.” Hux picked a piece of lint off his sleeve and checked the chronometer. “as to the process of  _ acquiring _ that number of people…well, that’s what the second stop is for. If we all leave now, we shall make perfect time.”

And with that, he spun on his heel and made his way towards the exit of the home to begin making calculations for their flight. Gwenevere studied him as he passed her, and stopped him before he got too far.

“What do you get from this, general?” she asked. “You didn’t have to come here to convince me, much less bring your second in command.”

“I am  _ not _ a second in command!” Kylo Ren cried. “We are Co-Commanders! Equal rank!”

“Really?” Gwenevere raised a brow, unimpressed. “I thought you were his leashed dog who barks and snaps when ordered to.”

Hux decided that he and Gwenevere would get along  _ perfectly _ . Deciding that she deserved a small bit of truth, he told her vaguely, “Let’s just say that am devoted to my loyal crewmembers, especially a few of my officers.”

She gave him a leveled look, as though she knew precisely who Hux was talking of. He forced himself to look away and exited the house with his two companions in tow.


	17. XVII

_ Mitaka _

 

Up, down, up, down.

It was a simple enough motion. Like going over ocean waves or driving a speeder over hills. It was either a calming movement or a nauseating side effect of physics.

In this case, it was Mitaka on the pull up bar, trying to wrap his head around the past two days.

Up, down, up, down.

Thanisson, with nothing else to do but wait for their fate, found comfort in another kind of “up, down” action. Mitaka could not blame them for their torrid tactics, since there was good reason to believe the would never get another chance.

Up, down, up, down.

But Mitaka had nothing but his own mind to keep him company, and that was dangerous on a number of levels. There were many things he did not want to think about. So…

Up, down, up, down.

The mantra of breath and grunt highlighted the downward slope of his sweat, and echoed throughout the  _ Finalizer _ ’s officer PT gym. He was alone. Given the all the free time meant he had a chance to try Thanisson’s theory of availability of gym hours.

_ This theory is confirmed. _

Up, down, up-

_ Drop _ .

Mitaka landed on his feet, panting. He infinitely preferred swimming to this physical training, but being on a star destroyer meant certain restrictions. If most couldn’t even take water showers, then what logic allowed a swimming pool?

_ Swimming… _

He shook his head as though to clear it, grabbing his towel. He would  _ not _ think of the waters of Naboo. He would  _ not _ think of the cool temperature and the summer breeze. He would  _ not _ think of the sandy beach he would lay on to dry himself.

He would  _ not _ think of the man he shared all of that with not too long ago.

Mitaka didn’t receive any response for his courtesy notification, confirming his theory that Hux no longer cared to hear from him. He was  _ not _ upset by this, and would  _ not _ be bothered. It was good they were distancing themselves. They  _ needed _ to be distant. Otherwise, there would be a breach in professionalism, when there was no reason for one. Mitaka was  _ content _ .

His comm chirped from his exercise bag, the cheerful tone a stark contrast to his dark thoughts. He tossed the towel into the community hamper and fished his datapad out from under his change of clothes.

_ “PO Thanisson: Come now. There is news.” _

Mitaka felt his stomach drop and didn’t bother changing. Instead, he threw all of his belonging haphazardly into his bag and fast walked as quickly as he could back up to Thanisson’s quarters.

He passed by several officers and felt their eyes on him. It was not because of his dress this time (it was not abnormal to only wear PT gear to and from the gym). The word had spread of what happened;  gossip had started. The ones who knew him as an acquaintance or worked alongside him looked with pity, while others shook their heads in disappointment.

Why waste breath staying friends with  _ that _ ilk?

Mitaka forced himself to not notice and requested entrance to Thanisson’s rooms coldly. He was granted access and he entered, tossing his bag to the corner.

“What news?” he asked his friend who sat in the desk chair, worrying his lip with his teeth and staring down at a datapad.

“I…don’t know what to make of it,” Aeon replied no louder than what was needed to be heard.

Rodinon emerged from the refresher, a towel around his hips and hair brushed back.

“Oh, you’re here,” he muttered, sitting on the bed. “Good. Now maybe Aeon can  _ finally _ tell us all what it says.”

Mitaka was surprised that Thanisson didn’t relay the information immediately, but his silent question was answered soon enough.

“I wanted Phel to read it. He deals with this kind of thing better and without bias,” Aeon insisted, passing the pad over to Mitaka.

“I am not sure if that is entirely accurate, Aeon,” Mitaka admitted. “I am involved too, you know.”

“Yes, but I doubt you started a brawl in the lounge when one of the officers made a nasty comment,” Aeon grumbled under his breath, staring down at his feet.  

Mitaka’s eyes went to Rodinon, who gave a surrendering gesture.

“He’ll live.”

“Sure,” Aeon snapped. “By drinking his food out of a straw.”

“Enough you two.” Mitaka chided. “We are all stressed, so there is no need for fighting. Let’s just focus on this.”

He turned his attention to the pad and read aloud.

_ “To Petty Officer Aeon Tiberius Thanisson, _

_ It is my duty to relay to you the negotiable sentence convicted and offered by the First Order High Command. You wife, Gwenevere Thanisson, has relayed a willingness to drop the charges and offer divorce under the pretense of Lennan Convention, Section 5 article C-“ _

Here Mitaka paused.

“I already looked it up,” Thanisson said, before Mitaka could ask. “Section 5 is the subject of divorce, and article C discusses children. Basically if there aren’t any children, one or both spouses maintain full rights to submit for divorce.”

Mitaka nodded and continued.

“ _ -under the conditions that you submit for a legal union with Liet Carolus Rodinon, and grant her a 2,000 credits pension per annum for the next five years, as is stated in accordance with Section 5, Article B.” _

Mitaka paused to look to his friend for another explanation. He did not disappoint.

“Money for her to start a new life, essentially.”

“But so  _ little,” _ Rodinon pressed.

“Read on, Phel, please,” Thanisson said.

_ “These are the conditions of which have been laid before you, and considering the circumstances of potential severity, I will take the liberty of agreeing to them if no reply is made within the next rotation. All matters considered, this is an extremely beneficial arrangement, and I urge you to accept this offer. However, discuss this matter with your partner and relay your answer as soon as possible, and be  _ explicit _ when you do so. On a more personal note, I guarantee that if this matter is settled quietly, then there should be no reason for any ill effects upon either of your work ethic. I will expect that both of you shall return to your duties as before once everything is finalized with High Command.” _

Mitaka sucked in a sharp breath at the name,  _ “General Armitage Hux, Acting Commanding Officer of the Finalizer.” _

All was silent in the room as the letter’s meaning sunk in.

“All we have to do is file a union?” Rodinon said in disbelief.

“But…she  _ can’t _ have forgiven me,” Thanisson insisted. “It’s not in her nature.”

Mitaka made no answer to either of them. Thanisson nudged him to garner a response, and was startled when Mitaka slapped his foot away.

“I heard you both,” he snapped.

“Well,  _ I _ know what to think.” Rodinon proclaimed, standing up. “I know when to be thankful when luck is applied, and I won’t stare good fate in the mouth when it comes.”

“So you want to accept?” Thanisson asked, confused.

“Think of the alternatives, Aeon!” Thanisson urged. “We could have been dishonorably discharged, thrown in prison for a few years, fined who knows how much! This is a far better arrangement! You and I are together openly, just as you wanted, and only 2,000 credits less for five years, a thousand from you and I’s joined paycheck. I’d say this is the obvious choice!”

Aeon, successfully convinced, smiled brightly and joined in Rodinon’s excitement. Mitaka could not muster any good feelings for either of them. Numbness had violently overtaken him, and didn’t bother announcing his departure.

Carrying a copy of the letter in his datapad, he reread the contents line for line, searching for… _ something. _ He didn’t know what it was he looked for, but he knew from the wrangling snakes in his stomach that there was something wanted to find in between the lines.

Aeon’s wife, the stubborn and powerful Mandalorian, willing to  _ submit? _ Change her mind? How could this be? Aeon had always painted a rather condemning picture of Gwenevere, but Mitaka wouldn’t doubt his claim that she was unlikely to be moved when her mind had been made up. They had never met, but Mitaka was confident nevertheless. So therefore something or someone had turned her head.

And with those conditions, too! Such a small amount, and an insistence of a union of the two who had potentially destroyed her reputation?

Mitaka could hardly believe it. He couldn’t imagine what had caused her to suddenly change her attitude towards the entire affair. In fact, this flip was so complete, that the gesture of insisting that her husband and his lover should unify was almost a like she was giving her blessing! What had happened?

Mitaka entered the gym once more, unsure what else to do. Now all that was left was the legal forms and settlements, and Mitaka had no part to play in that ordeal. He checked his datapad for a reply from Hux to his request to be off duty. None came. However, a little insignia indicated that had been read.

Mitaka sighed and tossed the cursed device away, returning to the pull up bar.

Up, down, up, down.

If Hux wanted to avoid him, then so be it. But to cause problems on a professional level? Ha! Damned hypocritical slimo. So much the better that they were not together.

Up, down, up, down.

But Aeon and Liet…they had hurt others with their carelessness and still got their happily ever after. Mitaka grit his teeth angrily and quickened his pace.

Up, down, up, down.

He had always believed that when one has surplus unhappiness doled out to them by fate and not by self-infliction, that person would receive good things eventually, and be rewarded for enduring. Just fuck it all, where was  _ his _ happy ending?

Up, down, up, down.

Of all the pain and suffering he had been dealt, why was  _ he _ the one still paying? Why was he still smiling?

Up, down, up, down.

Why couldn’t the galaxy just give him  _ something _ . He wasn’t asking for galactic peace or for Kylo Ren to stop manhandling him, but just a small something to help him keep going!

_ His datapad beeped insistently. _

Mitaka dropped from the bar and retrieved his datapad from his bag. He did  _ not _ scramble to get it or misspell his password twice due to shaky hands.

_ Lt. Mitaka, _

_ Thank you for your notification. However, I decline your request to continue your leave aboard the  _ Finalizer _. _

Anger overtook Mitaka in an instant, and would have smashed his datapad were it not for the next line.

_ Instead, you shall take a shuttle to Voss. I recall you expressed a wish on your file to see your sisters and their families. The one residing there has already been notified to expect you, and awaits you eagerly. I expect a healthy leave and for you to return to your duties in a week. _

Mitaka’s expression split into an excited smile at the thought of at last seeing one of his family, and hoped to find a way to see them all soon.

_ Shuttle leaves at 16:00.. _

_ Regards, Colonel Okahm, Acting Commanding Officer _

Hux was not back yet. He was still away. Mitaka shoved his datapad back into his bag and without it in his hands his embarrassment returned. Of course he wouldn’t get the message. It was probably directed right to Hux’s replacement while he was on leave.

A horrifying thought overtook Mitaka as he began making his way out of the gym. If he had expressed his wish under the pretext that it would arrive to Hux, then that meant…

He dropped his bad unceremoniously to the floor and dove into its contents to retrieve his pad once more. Mitaka checked the message he sent, his stomach threatening to burst from his abdomen.

_ A personal matter has arisen back on the Finalizer. I am sure that you are fully aware of it, but I have to return. I have already obtained passage back to the First Order, but I humbly request that my leave still apply while I am sorting through the issue at hand. _

He remembered that his tone was back to being professional since Mitaka was angry with him, and  _ knew _ going back to rank would slap Hux in the face. In this case, his embarrassing pettiness saved him from larger problems. If he were casual in his request, then the whole  _ Finalizer _ would know of his and Hux’s amiableness. It didn’t matter if it were still there or not; the point remained that it  _ existed _ and  _ happened _ . And who knew what gossip would arise, something that both Hux and himself abhorred.

Mitaka gingerly put his pad away and tried to put on a neutral face as he returned to his rooms to pack once more for leave. His mind was in a haze, making him lose track of time quickly. Before he knew it, he was walking to the hangar. Then he was on the shuttle, writing a message to Aeon about the continuation of his leave. Then he was in hyperspace, with just a few hours to reach Voss.

Mitaka slumped against his seat and dragged a hand over his face.

_ Get a grip. _

* * *

_ Hux _

 

Hux could have laughed until he cried at the image before him.

Seven children of varying age clung to the most feared force user in the Galaxy, Lord Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order, and apprentice to Supreme Leader Snoke as though he were a playground. Two were wrapped around his legs like tentacle monsters, while others gripped his robes or cowl. Still more hung from his limbs, and one was even draped over his shoulders from behind. They were pleading for him not to leave with “Army, Sir” or “General Hugs.” A couple were even crying.

Normally, Hux would fear for their lives and would usher them away from the temperamental knight. However, that was before he had spent an entire day watching Kylo Ren play _ hide and seek _ and  _ army vs resistance  _ with them. Kylo Ren had done more than just that; he had taught a few of them how to properly swordfight, gave taun-taun rides to the youngest who couldn’t keep up with the others, and even let the oldest daughter braid his hair back so it kept out of his eyes. He had refused to let it down even now. The baby of only three months sat in his helmet, mouthing at the black metal and getting its slobber all over it. Ren positively gushed at the sight.

Thus, Hux had no fear for them as Kylo pried each of them off of his body and clothes, saying goodbye another hundred times to each.

One child broke away from the group and tackled Hux’s legs, hugging them tightly. Hux stared down at the girl with a confused but awed expression. He hadn’t socialized with any of them at all, keeping mostly to the adults of the house. So what garnered  _ this _ reaction?

“Thank you…” she said into his knees.

“For what?” he asked, unable to remember her name.

“You came to help us prepare for Phel-Phel’s arrival,” she replied, looking up at him with those same doe eyes that he had fallen in love with on another man.

Hux sighed and patted the top of her head, giving her a small grin.

“You’re welcome,” he said, allowing her to move away. “But remember, it’s a  _ confidential _ mission.”

She giggled and saluted him. “Yes-Sir, General Army Hugs, Sir!”

With a final nod, Hux and Kylo Ren boarded the shuttle and began their journey out of the Voss System. When they left the atmosphere, Hux was thankful that the sickness in his stomach when passing the barrier had abated somewhat. He blamed this on the fact that it was probably because he had done it so much in the past few days.

“Arkanis again?” Kylo Ren asked from the cockpit. Hux joined him there by sitting in the copilot’s seat to have a proper conversation.

“Yes. Just a drop off.”

“Weren’t we just there dropping off Gwenevere?” Kylo Ren growled. “That place is dismal.”

“Gwendoline.” Hux corrected. He had to admit he preferred her new name. There was a certain power to it that would prove useful in the future. Gwendoline Phasma…

“Isn’t Snoke’s citadel in a dismal place?” Hux asked.

“Not like  _ that _ .”

“Alright, so you don’t like rain. Fair enough, not many do.”

Conversation stalled, leaving them to sit in the heavily awkward space. Hux tapped his fingers against his knee and turned his head to study Kylo.

He was sitting straighter, more attentive, and somehow oozed an aura a peace that Hux had never felt before. Normally, Kylo Ren was the image of hateful spite and impatience. He was reckless, obstinate, and selfish. In all essence, he was a child.

If Hux was feeling petty, he would perhaps think that since Kylo was a bit of a child himself, of course he would get along with youngsters. But there was something deeper about it all. Something  _ offsetting _ that Hux felt compelled to know more about.

“You have a bit of saliva on your…snout,” he muttered uselessly. 

Ren reached a hand up and swiped it across the muzzle of his mask, catching the liquid and wiping it off on the robe piece over his thigh. Hux, disappointed with the lack of information, tried again.

“Hard to believe that a child would want to teethe that  _ bucket _ . Who knows where it’s been…”

Kylo slowly turned his head so that his visor slit stared coolly at Hux, before it was removed and placed on the dashboard.

“Dephen is three months,” he replied. “Too early for most to start teething.”

“Nevertheless, thank you for keeping them occupied.”

“You do not do well with them, do you?” Kylo gave him a side glance, expecting a reaction. 

Hux calculated his answer.

“I never had a conventional childhood,” he allowed. “so children’s desires and thought processes are a mystery.”

“Neither did I,” Kylo countered.

“Well given the nature of your parents-”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Hux bit his lip and awaited further explanation. When none came, he slumped back in the chair and rested head against his hand, held up by the arm of the chair and his elbow.

“Children are centered around approval. They need attention and consideration. Otherwise they grow up bitter and volatile. With eight of them in just that one house, it is safe to say that there may be neglect.”

“And so you thought to yourself that you may as well just lavish them in all the attention out of the goodness of your-”

Kylo’s expression made Hux stop. He was far away again. That gaze that was looking beyond what was visible, and perhaps reaching towards something that was forbidden or lost to him. Hux tried to come up with possible reasons for this reaction, and only came with one: he was speaking from  _ experience _ .

He had spent time with the family’s vast number of adolescents because he wished to guard them from any feelings of abandonment as he had experienced.

It made perfect sense, and somehow that startled Hux;  _ broke _ something within him. He had always believed that Kylo had what Hux had wanted when he was younger; two parents that loved their child and provided the best for him. He was content to believe that Kylo was entitled for wanting more, but given this recent discovery, Hux was ashamed. This new feeling made Hux want to empty his stomach, but Kylo’s voice stopped that urge.

“You said that children were the intended Stormtrooper cadets in your father’s plan for an army. When we were at the estate on Arkanis. You must understand them in order to control them.”

Hux nodded numbly, the statement somehow grounding. but his thoughts were still tumbling around, chaotic. How was Kylo Ren abandoned? He had everything. He was even a single child, which made attention all the more possible. Even more so, he was gifted with those powers of his. Surely he was considered to be the popular child, especially given his birthright.

Kylo frowned intensely, and sent a glare his way.

“You don’t understand,” was all he said. “If all was well in that life, why would I never want to go back? Why leave it in the first place?”

Hux opened his mouth to reply, but shut it again. He pondered for a moment before deciding his answer.

“I don’t like my home world either. It’s a place of horrible memory.” He gestured with his hand towards the viewport of the shuttle. “But I am still returning for my leave, no?”

“Why  _ are _ you doing that?” Kylo asked. “What is the  _ point _ ?”

Hux scowled. He felt a jab of distaste at the unequal amounts of sharing in their conversations, and sought to remedy that immediately.

“I will answer that if you answer my question.”

“If it is about either of our previous lives, then no, I will not answer.”

Hux was not dissuaded; he had plenty of backup questions.

“I have another query,” he stated in triumph.

Kylo Ren rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he muttered.

“Why did you attack Mitaka?” Hux jabbed. 

Kylo seemed startled by the question, and Hux used that hesitation as an opportunity to press.

“And not just that last time, I mean at all. He is no different to you than any other officer. And yet you targeted him.”

Kylo was silent at this, expression unreadable.

“Why did you attack him, Ren?” Hux insisted.

Again, no reply. Hux’s patience snapped.

“I shall  _ not _ repeat myself again,” he warned viciously.

A shot of pain whipped through Hux’s skull in punishment at the

“Do not patronize me.”

“Then answer the question. It’s not about your ‘previous life’ so it’s open to be answered. What was the purpose of using your  _ magic _ to break his mind?”

“I had reasons,” Kylo said simply. Hux scowled. If Ren thought that Hux was just going to be satisfied with that answer, he was more deluded than he ever believed.

“I rather  _ hate _ asking a million specifying questions when the person answering them could make the entire exchange far more  _ bearable _ by  _ elaborating _ on the first inquiry,” Hux snarled, feeling his sanity wearing thin. Ren raised his brow dubiously at the question. Hux rolled his eyes in exhaustion.

_ “In other words _ ,” he sighed. “I will  _ not  _ be playing this stupid game of 20 questions!”

“Be consistent,” Kylo chuckled, a small grin at the corner of his plush lips. “Is it a million or twenty? Besides, I was trying to  _ think _ of an answer.”

Any form of response to Kylo’s obviously childish “poking-the-angry-wampa” died as the second statement caught his attention.

“So…” Hux’s voice went low, dangerous. “you don’t even  _ have _ a-“

“An answer you would  _ understand.”  _ Kylo corrected before he could finish. Hux scoffed.

“Try me.  _ Without _ simplifying.”

_ If he thinks that petty excuse would dissuade me, then he has another- _

“Mitaka is sensitive to the force.”

Hux felt whatever frustration that was burbling up his throat at his companion’s inconvenient attitude suddenly drop back into his stomach and freeze into a block of ice.

“…He…what?” was all he could sputter out after a few minutes of staring at Kylo’s serious expression. He had attempted to find some sort of hint of a joke or tease. Finding none was the difficult part of that moment.

Kylo huffed, clearly irritated.

“There are three kinds of people when it comes to the force: user, sensitive, and blind. Every user is sensitive, but a sensitive is not a user.”

Hux could still feel the confusion.

“These three words…they mean  _ what _ , exactly?” he asked. Kylo Ren hesitated, almost appearing unsure if he should continue his explanation. Hux had to wonder if this information was forbidden or not. Eventually, he did continue.

“A user is someone like myself, or Supreme Leader Snoke,” he began, turning in his seat to face Hux properly. “we are able to manipulate the force. My body is a vessel capable of controlling and using the force at will.”

“Capable,” Hux mused, his mind immediately going to all of the destroyed consoles and  _ Finalizer _ architecture. “As in, sometimes you  _ don’t _ have control.”

Ren appeared, dare Hux think it,  _ sheepish _ .

“I am not a master, no…” he murmured. “I am Snoke’s apprentice, after all.”

Hux had the urge to jab at his incapability to maintain a semblance of a mature leader and therefore be worthy of that title, but decided to stay on his good side.

“As for a sensitive?” he asked.

“Someone who can  _ feel _ through the force, but cannot act upon it.” Kylo ran a hand through his hair and checked the ship’s diagnostics. Satisfied with them, he continued. “They can feel emotions, intent…it’s like a heightened instinct. They tune into the force without ever knowing what they are doing. As for force blind…” here Kylo grinned more smugly than an Arkan-cat. “That’d be  _ you _ .”

“What!?

“You don’t feel  _ anything _ , unless I  _ make _ you feel it.” Kylo chuckled with glee at Hux’s obviously offended face. “Which is  _ exactly _ why you don’t know anything of it and could never understand.”

Hux frowned and resisted the urge to make a jab towards Kylo Ren’s inability to understand other subjects, such as order, discipline, and efficiency. However, there was a more important point to this exercise. He took a calming breath before asking.

“Alright, and Mitaka?”

Kylo turned his chair sideways to face Hux completely, expression blank with the exception of curiosity in his eyes. He was  _ eager _ for Hux’s reaction when he would explain it plainly.

“Mitaka is only sensitive. I could feel the force around him like a second skin, but I wasn’t sure if he was carrying it  _ knowingly _ . I monitored him over several months, and put him through a few tests and eventually came to the conclusion that he was just sensitive, but not a user.”

Hux’s thoughtful expression slowly turned to one of horror as ren explained. Kylo appeared gleeful, until Hux voiced the reason for his revulsion.

“But…you  _ hurt  _ him!” he cried. Kylo stared dubiously at him, shocked, but recovered by shrugging his shoulders in an unperturbed fashion.

“Not permanently. Just partially.” He pressed a few buttons on the dashboard that Hux didn’t know the purpose to. “I had to place him under extreme stress to see if would use the force on instinct should he ever let go of his inhibitions. When he did, nothing happened.”

“You are such a-”

Kylo’s sudden icy stare silenced him.

“Whatever you say about me, I can say the same about you,” he shot. “You hurt him too, and in a much more devastating way than I ever could.”

Hux could feel the ice in his belly crack and fissure, the points digging into his guts and twisting like knives. Ren was right, and Hux couldn’t deny it. He had no intention to; it was a guilt he knew he had to live with.

“I will admit, though…” Kylo’s voice brought him away from the sensation of the ice knives, and back into the present. “I was surprised by his tenderness.”

Hux’s perplexing was unable to be masked.

“I…what?”

Ren explained.

“While I was monitoring him, there came a time when he defended me, even though he did not recognize me. And I sensed that even if he did know my identity, he still would have defended me. His disdain for me was short lived, and wasn’t even very potent. He’s very…forgiving.”

Hux closed his eyes and shook his head,

“Everyone has limits. Even Mitaka’s ability to forgive has an expiration date.”

_ And I have reached it… _

“What about you?” Ren’s voice interrupted his thought process.

“Excuse me?”

“I answered your question. So now answer mine.” Kylo Ren’s face twitched a little with irritation, at repeating himself.

Hux relented.

“I need to put some people to rest.” A pause. “And find someone.”


	18. XVIII

_ Mitaka _

 

Exhausted couldn’t even begin to describe how Mitaka felt at the moment. His feet dragged across the ramp of the shuttle, eyes drooped, and whole body ached from overuse. He couldn’t recall the last time he had a good night’s sleep or when he slept in a bed that was comfortable.

Yet, he had never felt happier in his life.

Regardless of the boisterousness of his nieces and nephews (who had multiplied by more than he had anticipated), Mitaka couldn’t help but revel in their vivacity and effervescence. They _glowed_ with life and excitement, scrambling for renewal of affections and for some, an introduction to his ever growing adoration. Once he had been fully introduced to them, he made a tally of the new additions; the total number of children, including the infant twins his second oldest had recently given birth to, and the several adopted, was twenty-four.

His sisters were as lively and quirky as they ever were. Motherhood had hardly put a dent on their spirit, and even enhanced their cheerfulness. Their appearances had changed as they time always did, but Mitaka gave it absolutely no thought at all.

To see them all well and happy in their lives helped relieve his own troublesome one. However, the eldest, Kimmi-eh, approached him when alone to ask for his wellbeing, arguing that he was hiding his true feelings.

Mitaka, not about to give way to damper the mood of the reunion, insisted that he was merely sorry for not keeping up with his sister’s actions, and how he felt guilty for not being there for the births. She admonished him for that kind of thinking, bringing up the fact that he couldn’t get away as his work was important.

The four husbands were also present, which came as a tremendous surprise as well. Generally, they were spaced far across the galaxy.. Two were usually stationed abroad on a base on Eadu, another one on Scarif, and another commanding a Star Destroyer. Mitaka felt awkward in their presence as a mere lieutenant, but that was quickly swept aside as rank was replaced with names and endearments. They were eager to see their children, as well as hear from Mitaka’s adventures on the Finalizer. Once again, he was placed on a pedestal above his rank as a lieutenant by the vessel he worked in, but this time it was hardly a burden. Mitaka knew their curiosity and admiration was not superficial; there was a deep understanding of what he had overcome to be where he was at such a young age.

That did not mean, however, that the mention of Hux was not without reaction. Outwardly, Mitaka smiled and nodded along with the conversation. Inside, he was screaming. Whether it was in agony or anger, he could not tell. All he knew for sure was that the mere mention of Hux from his own family was painful. Every utterance of his name was a knife jab in his gut. Every question regarding Hux’s command, personality, and traits were a slow, torturous death.

Thankfully, it was soon realized by all that Mitaka was not willing to speak for long about his work on the _Finalizer_ , much less its commanding officer, and the subjects were dropped altogether.

Though the time with his family was swift and breathless, Mitaka had to return. Farewell to his sisters and their children was more difficult than he could have imagined; he would be lying if he claimed he didn't shed tears alongside them.

Now, back on the ship that had made him seem more important than he felt, Mitaka was eager to return to his routines. There was a small hope that he could perhaps return to a sense of normalcy. That did not mean that he was sure that it would come without hiccups. Unlike the family reunion, he could not avoid his commanding officer. He was more than aware that to do so would be considered to be absolutely irresponsible.

But Mitaka could not help but think that Hux may be doing the same. Hux was avoiding him too, wasn’t he? _Was he?_ Or was he just drowning himself in work? Mitaka would not be surprised if that were the case.

If anything, he knew Hux would rather never go on leave if it meant he could stay in control. He was ever the overhanging power, the all-seeing eyes, the very entity that was as omniscient as the force itself. Or so he was told; the force was a bit of a muddled subject, if he was quite honest with himself.

Mitaka’s sluggishly clumsy thought process was interrupted by what he could only describe as a "tackle". In truth it was only Aeon, who had come to meet him as Mitaka stepped off the ramp.

"Aeon, I was grappled by my family already. I don’t need you doing the same..." Mitaka groaned, though his smile at seeing his friend so happy didn’t support his tone. Because of this, Aeon gave it hardly any attention.

"I thought you may want a welcoming committee!" Thanisson said. "Besides, I have news."

"News?" This perked Mitaka's interest, and gave him a little energy.

Thanisson nodded eagerly.

"Liet and I have sent off the paperwork. High command received it this morning, and confirm it by tomorrow." Aeon could not have sounded more excited. Mitaka didn’t quite have the energy to show his happiness.

"So you’ll be official?" he asked.

"We will be official,” Aeon confirmed before practically swooning. “Oh Phel, it’s like a dream! I can hardly believe it!"

"I’m happy for you, Aeon," Mitaka said truthfully, though somberly. "I really am."

Aeon beamed at the words and kissed Mitaka's cheek in thanks.

"I can’t stay long. I have to prepare for work tomorrow.” He started to go, but spun on his heel back before he got too far.

“Before I forget, Liet is taking over your station today,” he said. “He insisted."

"But he wasn’t supposed return to work until after the union is complete!" Mitaka cried.

"I know,” Aeon rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. “But Liet wanted to thank you for your support. According to him, he thinks it was hard for you to do so. Can’t imagine why he would think that. You’re my friend, of course you would support me."

Mitaka kept his lips sealed. He would not say that it _was_ hard for him to support them. He would not say that _no_ he would _not_ support Aeon's every whim. He remained stoic, and merely allowed Aeon to believe what he wanted.

Aeon left after this exchange.

Mitaka, now feeling more or less useless, slinked back to his quarters while feeling unsure what else he should do. On his way back, he was greeted by his fellow comrades as though none of them had given him the cold shoulder or pitying stares not a week before. Mitaka could not help the shudder of disgust that overcame him when he was alone in his quarters. Deciding he had enough of people for the time being, he collapsed upon his bed face first and fell asleep, clothes and shoes still on.

He dreamed of five red sabers spearing spheres, with screams of terror that came in their wake. The potency of their pain was more than he could bear, and when he feared he would go mad, they suddenly ceased. This jolt of quiet woke him faster than a slap in the face and was more shocking than a bucket of ice water.

Mitaka was gasping in…he wasn’t sure what the emotion was, but it was disturbing. Anticipation of a disaster, perhaps? But _what_? _What_ was this constant feeling of peril; this endless stream of “dread” premonitions that had no reason to exist? Mitaka cursed his troubled mind, and knew that the conquest of rest was just not available. He had to keep busy, it seemed.

This was happening constantly now; every time he had a moment to himself, a moment to settle his thoughts to something other than what was immediately in front of him, his mind went either to Hux or these strange feelings, neither of which were pleasant subjects.

Mitaka changed to his PT gear, unsure what else he was supposed to do for the remainder of the day. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to endure the claps on the back from his comrades, who flashed such wretched pity and exhausting encouragement at the flip of a switch. Therefore, the lounge was out of the question. Besides, the gym would be empty right about now, according to Liet.

Well, _almost_ empty.

“Matt?” Mitaka called, approaching the familiar mop of blonde hair that was on all fours by a panel on the far wall in the gym. The technician looked up with apathy at Mitaka, and grunted his greeting.

“Hey,” he murmured.

Mitaka placed his bag by the pull up bar, before squatting next to him, feeling the irritation come off Matt in waves.

Matt was a bit of a conundrum. He switched personalities between genuine concern and a raging inferno with such volatility that Mitaka wondered on occasion if he was bipolar. There was a vulnerability about him that extended to more than just his hot-cold nature and explosive mood. Mitaka always could have sworn he _knew_ Matt from somewhere, but his thoughts always turned to a different direction in a matter of seconds, and so he never delved too deeply into the theory. It was disturbing how much his mind struggled to function in Matt’s presence.

“Having a rough day?” Mitaka asked.

“Been fighting this thing for a while,” Matt admitted. “And my supervisor won’t answer my comm calls for assistance.”

Mitaka hummed before glancing over Matt’s shoulder. All Mitaka could make out was a mess of wires and a sparking calcinator. However, anything beyond that required more technical skills than he had. He would help if he was able to, and said as much to Matt.

“Thanks, but they don’t like officers and non-technician personnel helping me.” Matt tangled the wires in his hands gingerly, almost appearing _embarrassed._

Matt was many things, but embarrassed was not one of them.

Vulnerable, yes; embarrassed, no. He was crass and shameless in many things, which made many people avoid him on the pretense that he was disgusting. Mitaka felt that Matt was merely someone who didn’t understand what was normal social grounds, and perhaps only needed a gentle push in the right direction.

Matt’s temper was what stopped others from being politer, Mitaka decided. There had been rumors of Matt only being on the _Finalizer_ technician staff because he was too radical and volatile to be a Stormtrooper, and was rejected. Mitaka never asked, and felt that to be an inappropriate question. Rather, he kept a listening ear.

“They being who?” he asked. “And why?”

“Because my supervisors and coworkers – _they­_ – ­think­ that I’d never get anything done that way and that I won’t learn.”

Mitaka sighed in defeat.

“Well, how are you supposed to _learn_ if you don’t have help? Especially if _they_ won’t help you?”

 _“Exactly!”_ Matt huffed in frustration, shaking his head. He let out a calming breath in an obvious attempt to exhale his ire before turning his attention to Mitaka, abandoning the wires.

“I haven’t seen you anywhere,” He said quietly. “Were you on leave?”

Mitaka was honest.

“I was.” He let himself shrug nonchalantly. “It was longer than anticipated, I will admit.”

“It was odd not seeing you,” Matt replied with a curious expression.

“Don’t tell me you _missed_ me,” Mitaka joked.

When Matt remained silent and altered his gaze, Mitaka couldn’t help but wonder if he had stepped over a line.

 _I…I_ can’t _be the only one who talks to him._

“You know what the best part about being a technician is?” Matt suddenly asked, changing the subject. The quiet awkward vanished, and Mitaka was glad to see it go, but still felt that was an issue he had to get to the bottom of.

Based off Matt’s experiences, Mitaka wasn’t sure there _was_ a good part of a technician job, much less a _best_ part. However, he humored him.

“I get to see everything,” Matt said knowingly. “Especially if it’s secret. Most Officers don’t think underlings matter, so they don’t hide their secrets very well in front of them.”

“Is that how you are able to stalk Kylo Ren so well? Because you hear and see everything?”

Matt was silent for a moment, staring down at his oversized hands that were holding very tiny parts of the inner working of the wall console.

“I…heard Kylo Ren talking about you when he returned from his mission.”

“Oh?” Mitaka allowed his doubt to show.

“No, really!” Matt quickly assured. “He was talking about how Hux was a pain mostly, but then said he went to the Mitaka family home and set up some sort of reunion. Said he never saw so many kids in his life. Do you really have seven nieces and nephews?”

This garble came out in a matter of seconds, and on one breath. Mitaka blinked in surprise at Matt’s ferocity and excitement, but also with what was being said. As a result, he had to take a moment to collect himself in order to make a reply.

All he could manage was a weak, “Er…more than seven, actually.”

Matt stared in awe, but Mitaka had questions. Questions that were too potent to be kept in his mind.

“Why would Hux do that?” he asked Matt.  

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “More importantly, why would he involve _Kylo Ren_?”

Matt scoffed incredulously under his breath, “He’s much too busy to be bothered by Hux’s social problems!”

Mitaka bit back his annoyance at Matt’s obsession of the force user, knowing that showing his irked countenance would hardly reap more information from the technician. Instead, he patiently nodded along and merely asked another question

“Why do you say it was social problem of Hux’s?” he asked. “You don’t _know_ that do you?”

Matt narrowed his eyes and his lip partially jutted out in a childish pout. It reminded Mitaka of another person, but somehow his brain wouldn’t supply him with the identity, as though his thoughts ran along a broken wire.

“I can _think_ , you know,” Matt growled, the air around him sparking. “He wouldn’t be going there for _business_. What business does he have with _your_ family? You’re not in a union.”

Mitaka let out a large sigh and conceded this. Matt wasn’t _wrong_ but in retrospect if they _were_ in a union, Hux would have both business and social calls for Mitaka’s family. But that wasn’t the case. What was Hux _doing?_

Was he trying to fix whatever hard feelings he caused on Naboo? Was he trying to apologize again? Or was he trying to lure Mitaka back in with kind gestures?

“Did Kylo Ren say how much Hux was involved with the family reunion?” he asked.

“Paid, planned, and organized everything, apparently. That’s all I know.”

Mitaka closed his eyes in exhaustion and leaned against the wall before sliding down the surface, feeling defeated by his thoughts. Matt watched him do this in trepidation. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind, but thought better of taking action. Instead, he turned back to the console and continued to do whatever jumbled mechanical duty he was given.

Mitaka remained on the floor, basking in the coolness of the metal floor and wall against his back and feeling more confused than ever. He felt as though he understood nothing at all, and wondered if it would ever be resolved; if he would ever confidently take on understanding something ever again.

Loneliness overcame him, and he felt that the person beside him was his only companion in this feeling. He once more tried to figure out why that was important, but his thoughts once more ceased and went in another direction.

He wasn’t sure if he was just imagining it, but Mitaka thought he saw Matt smile.

* * *

_ Hux _

 

Rain poured outside in familiar torrents, a symphony to the otherwise quiet office. The room was lit only by the technology long abandoned by its dead owner. Hux had tried not to think much on it when he first arrived to the estate.

His fingers flew over his datapad with practiced dexterity, and with a final flick, he sent the final message of the evening to his underlings. _Now_ he was officially off duty and could focus on more important matters.

He slumped back against the leather office chair that had a deep compression from so much usage from its previous owner. The arms were racked and peeling away as though they were clutched too often in frustration or anger. Hux studied one of the flayed leather ends and picked at it with a pensive movement.

_How strange that I should sit in your seat after all, Brendol…_

Hux heard the door of the office slide open and a droid rolling in. Hux almost wanted to laugh at the sight of it; it was the same droid that followed him around when he was a child, after the kitchen staff was dismissed. Ah, how nostalgic. It seemed even in Brendol’s death, he was cheap about getting new droids.

“Master, your guest has arrived and is waiting in the living room,” the droid beeped to him.

Hux nodded once and waved a hand in dismissal. That was enough for the AI; it rolled out of the room again, off to do whatever it had to do when it wasn’t following a young Armitage around the estate.

Hux out rightly chuckled when a memory came unbidden about his mischievous nature when it came to the droid shadow. Once he came to the realization that the staff had been dismissed because of his close association and that he was saddled with the droid forever, Hux had sought to destroy it to arouse his father’s frustration, and perhaps to make him seem a little foolish. He could not destroy it with his hands, that would have been too obvious. No, he had to think of a more natural cause.

Instead, he took to the open meadows between the clumps of forest and purposely tread through the muddiest patches. It was here that Hux discovered how impersonal this droid was; it didn’t even argue when it followed Hux, even when it’s bolts were straining against the foreign contaminants and could barely move. As it struggled in a particularly deep puddle, Hux stopped to look at its flailing limbs. At the eye contact, the droid ceased its fight, and merely sunk into the water up to its neck, not even beeping out a complaint. Hux stared at it for a moment, before walking away to report that his “nanny” had “died” in the meadow.

All he got out of the situation was a black bruise on his cheek, and a now clunky droid follower.

“You broke it, now you get to live with it,” Brendol had scolded, before leaving his son on the carpet in the living area.

Maratelle had watched in a corner, but said - _did_ \- nothing. When Hux turned his head to look to her for comfort, she looked away expressionlessly and retreated with her servants in tow.

All he had was the droid, and even if it had a personality, it wouldn’t comfort him; he did, after all, try to destroy it.

Hux sighed and shook his head.

_If only I had learnt the lesson that day…that if you hurt something, it has no reason to be kind to you._

He had done it to the man he desired most, and now…

Hux firmly refused to think the worst of the situation. He would _forget_ Mitaka. He _would_. He _had_ to. Mitaka was sensible enough to stay away from him, so Hux logically should be sensible to give up on his affections. Instead, he would do well in atoning for his poor decisions.

He had already succeeded with Thanisson.

Saving him from shame and prison by consulting with Gwenevere, and offering a solution that suited everyone involved had done the trick. Even Kylo Ren was satisfied, knowing that he would soon have a positive report to give to his unforgiving master. He hoped Phasma would thrive in the military as her confidence had reasoned for both co-commanders to believe.

The only surprise that came from the negotiation was Phasma’s request for Palpatine’s yacht and its chrome outer casing. Though Hux was confused by this request, Kylo Ren seemed to understand what it meant (but did not explain it). Hux merely agreed that he would track down the metal and transfer it to her new living situation as soon as he could.

_Mandalorians…_

He had given Mitaka back to his family, with little to no expense to any of them.

Of course, getting all of the husbands back to their families was the tricky part, but in the end that turned out to be a relatively easy endeavor as well. He sincerely hoped that Mitaka was happy. It was why he had sent him to Ashara in the first place. Mitaka would have been happier spending the rest of the leave with her and Tyris than with _him_.

He had made peace with each of the families that he had hurt in his academy days.

Not only did he message them, but he also gave each a large pension and honored their deceased sons by commissioning a monument in the school’s courtyard. Not only would it honor those he had killed, but also commemorate _all_ of those who had died unjustly on the grounds. He had gone through the records that indicated a dead child with the intent to have their names listed on the monument, and was astounded by the staggering number over the years. He supposed that’s what happened when a school is as old as the post republic days.

There is a potential change to be had with erecting this commemoration; perhaps it would set the standard that violence was important to be accustomed to, but should be tethered to beneficial activities. Harnessing violence was control, but murdering another cadet was caving into it.

All is quiet in the Hux estate.

_The rain must have stopped…_

It was eerily silent as Hux stood from his chair. He supposed he had kept his guest waiting long enough. True, he had wondered if it was right to even give contact after so many years, and he could not deny that he was selfish for wanting this. Regardless, he would not let anything stop him. Not this time.

With a smart movement of straightening his uniform and greatcoat that was hung over his shoulders, he strolled down the many halls of his estate and studied each room as he passed, feeling the memories rather than just recalling them. He could feel the pain fester inside of himself and wondered if he should redecorate the estate, make it his own. He decided against it after a moment’s speculation. A fresh coat of paint wouldn’t fix the cracks in the foundation.

At last, he approached the door to the living room. He reached for the controls that would open the door, when the negative voice in the back of his head began speaking.

_“No one cares…it won’t matter whatever you do…won’t even recognize you…won’t remember you…”_

It was then that Hux realized it was his father’s voice all along.

With this new information, he felt a burst of confidence rush through him; his father was no longer alive, and no longer valid. There was no point in dallying in his influence any longer, even in the subconscious.

He opened the door, and stepped inside.

There was a woman sitting awkwardly on the couch, who turned at the sound of the door. As her eyes met Hux’s, she stood slowly in absolute shock. Hux almost turned tail and ran, his earlier confidence shattering. However, he stood firm, and knew that there was no going back now.

She looked exactly as described as in his father’s diaries, as old as they were. There was no mistaking her identity; she appeared nearly the same in his own memories as a child. Their features were different but the connection is still there in their shared aquamarine eyes.

“Mother?” He tested the word on his lips, and it was enough to break the spell between them. Wordlessly, the woman threw her arms around his neck, and Armitage crumbled with contentment.

He didn’t even care that his greatcoat fell off his shoulders onto the floor, where a discolored stain of old blood rested upon the wood from his predecessor.


	19. XIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theres an epilogue!

_ Mitaka _

 

Mitaka’s face was highlighted by the screen of both his console and his datapad, information and statistics running steadily across both pieces of tech with lightning speed. His well-trained eyes kept up with no difficulty.

He had missed this.

The bridge of the  _ Finalizer _ was a welcoming place to him, where productivity called to his inner work obsession. The familiarity of the people and routine were also very obliging, and rested his weary patience of the unpredictable. While Naboo and leave were mostly pleasant, he was much more comfortable with the sameness of uniform, faces, and predictability of occurrence.

This was not applicable outside the walls of a star destroyer. Some may call the military life that much more of a prison because of this, but Mitaka felt it was rather liberating; it was always easy to foresee what the future was, and expectations were almost always met. That, added onto the ease of mind freed from most decisions, it gave way to the ability to take comfort in not worrying about most problems that civilians would have, such as a home, food, clothing, and payroll.

Of course, there was the point that civilians made that did resonate with Mitaka; the fact that the military doesn’t often give much room in protocol to allow relationships. 

The Lennan Convention saw to that. 

This occurred as a direct effect of the population crisis shortly after the battle of Endor. With the imperials chased into the outer rim and struggling to survive, the number of people decreased instead of maintaining a steady repopulation statistic; no one was having children. People argued that slow building relationships halted the process of reproduction, and as such would do well to be cast aside. Arranged marriages became the norm, since people still hung onto the old principle of marriage before children. 

“Can’t have us turn into free loving savages just because the rebellion won a few times and forced us to hide in destitution,” the High Command had said. Or what was left of them.

And thus, the Lennan Convention was held. And the old imperials didn’t like homosexual marriage; not because of prejudices or misunderstanding. There was just no procreation involved. Oh yes, there were means to do it, but none of them were obtainable in a society that was struggling to just  _ feed _ itself. Pregnancies and birth had to be done the old fashioned way; the hailed tanks and surrogates were now a thing of glorified past of the core worlds, which were overtaken by the Rebellion and New Republic.

Same sex marriage became essentially impossible. Why waste money and resources on a ceremony that was meant for couples to copulate and bring children into the universe when there was so little substance to go around? And besides, those sort of unions usually adopted, since it was cheaper than merging two DNA samples in a lab. 

But even children were scarce, so adoption was never mentioned in the laws passed, and it was likely to never be addressed. Most children who had no parents now were taken in to become Stormtroopers, except a select few who showed potential enough to be admitted to the officers program.

Liet and Aeon no doubt would be overjoyed that they wouldn’t be saddled with a child. In order for an officer to have a child, the one spouse must be able to stay at home to care for it (unless the family was wealthy enough to hire a nanny or caretaker, which was rare). Since both were in the military, they would never be required to be dragged back by a kid. 

Mitaka supposed that was a good thing. It was probably advisable that parents be available for a child instead of tossing them to a stranger without a single care, simply on the pretense that their wants were more important than the child’s emotional need to be loved.

_ Hux’s family was present, but they  _ still _ took advantage of their wealth... _

Mitaka felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end as a familiar ache and pressure ghost over the back of his neck. He didn’t have to even look up to know the source; Kylo Ren passed his console without giving any indication that Mitaka was there. Regardless, Mitaka knew it was him. 

There wasn’t anyone else on the ship who could connected with the Force, after all.  

Kylo Ren silently brooded over the bridge, gazing at the stars out the viewport as looming overseer. Mitaka could almost imagine that he was looking for something, but couldn’t figure what. He resolved to pay no heed; it was probably some sort of Force related thing, and wouldn’t affect him.

If he was honest, the only thing Mitaka wanted to know was why Hux had been essentially ignoring him since he returned from Arkanis. Yes, he returned, but what does that  _ matter _ ? Mitaka saw brooding  _ Kylo Ren _ more than the overbearing, hover-shuttle general.  The man was dodging every place that Mitaka would be, even if it meant giving the bridge over to his childishly argumentative co-commander.

He’s  _ everywhere _ and  _ nowhere _ ; constantly in meetings with High Command and the Supreme Leader about some weapon, and suddenly he has taken interest in the Stormtrooper program. He’s also speaking a lot with this private caller from Arkanis, whoever that was. Obviously he wasn’t speaking to his father; Mitaka knew the man was dead by Hux’s own hands. Perhaps a particular instructor? No, Hux didn’t have a love for that school before, and that was unlikely to change now.

_ Interesting how you know this, Dopheld. _

Mitaka shook his head and resolved to forget everything he ever heard Hux tell him; it was a strange feeling being able to pick apart Hux’s actions, and being able to conceive the real purpose of his orders and motions. He had successfully understood Hux’s psychology and  _ resented  _ knowing it.

_ It was better when you didn’t know a damned thing about him. _

A figure stood over his console, grabbing Mitaka’s attention. It was his supervising officer.

The older man had a grateful smile on his face as he watched Mitaka’s ease in his work and rested a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder.

“Good to have you back lieutenant. You were missed,” he said. Mitaka could feel the sincerity in his tone, and was grateful for it.

“Thank you, sir.” He replied. “I hope there wasn’t trouble?”

“Oh no, no, no…” The officer shook his hand in a placating gesture. “Not with  _ productivity _ , anyways.”

Mitaka considered his meaning before his eyes wandered towards Kylo Ren. Realization hit him hard; the knight had probably terrorized the bridge something fierce without his favorite toy to throw around. That or just used Liet, his replacement, to compensate. Mitaka made a mental note to never be absent longer than a standard leave allowed ever again.

“Anyways,” the man continued, all business. “I need you to give the daily report to Hux for our sector. He’s actually in his office this time.”

Mitaka’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Not in a meeting?” he asked.

_ In the past, when he was present, he preferred a body to give report rather than one just being stent digitally. It’s usually me but…considering all that’s happened… _

“Surprisingly, no.” The supervisor chuckled lightheartedly. “Some of the men are joking that he’s trying to avoid someone.”

“Can’t imagine who that would be.”

“Can’t you?”

Mitaka met his eyes and for the first time noticed the “all-knowing” gaze he was using. The discomfort that followed was palpable, and he momentarily froze in unease.

_ Did he know? Suspect?   _

Mitaka took a cautionary glance around. Most eyes were half on their consoles. The rest were on him and his supervisor. Mitaka struggled not to panic.

_ Did they  _ all  _ suspect!? It would make sense; we left together to the same place, I return first, then go away again and then we both return at different times. And all this happened under the duration labeled as “leave.” It almost sounds like a couple going on vacation and then separating because of a fight. _

He suppressed a shudder.

“No.” Mitaka replied firmly instead, eyes hardening. He added, “Sir,” as an afterthought. The officer chuckled and waved a hand towards Hux’s office.

“Go report, lieutenant.” He said, unperturbed. “Like I said it’s good to have you back. Poor sod who took your place got a nasty shock at what your job entails beyond what’s mentioned in the fine print.”

Mitaka almost forgot the dread in his stomach of seeing Hux since his departure from Varykino on Naboo as he winced at the image of Liet being thrown into a wall or against the console helplessly played in his head.

Almost.

* * *

_ Hux _

 

**_Message from:_ ** _ Nola K. _

**_Subject:_ ** _ Fully Staffed and an Update _

**_Contents:_ ** _ 1 attachment _

**_Body:_ **

_ ‘Tage, _

_ After digging through the files of the office for about a half hour and thus ruining my back, I was able to find ten of the original staff members contacts. I was only able to secure three of them, not including myself of course, who were willing to return. Of course, it helped that Brendol is no longer present. Some of them are even surprised that you decided to keep the estate at all. They don’t delusion themselves in believing attachment to the place was caused by “pleasant memories”. _

_ It was a wonderful reunion, one that I wish you could have been present for. It was a great shock that I was made housekeeper by your signature, while bearing the title of “mistress of the estate”. So many asked about you and if you were happier now that you were free at last. I persuaded them that you were content, but you and I both know that is a lie. I hope that will change soon, however or whenever you are ready to tackle  _ that _ issue. _

_ Maratelle sent her regards through a message a couple hours ago, and best as I can make of it, it’s hardly cordial. She asked for your health and mine, but expressed an explicit wish that even with these new hiring that she was to receive her annum allowance from your father’s will as usual. She made a comment or two that hiring so many hands for someone who never was there was hardly economical, and a waste. Shame she has to be such an angry person; I believed at one time we could have been friends. _

_ I enclosed the message in this one for your convenience. I am sure you will handle the matter with proper time and respect. _

_ I do wonder what I shall do as housekeeper and mistress, though. I shall have to keep busy somehow. The others insist that I am a “fragile old lady” who “worked her youth away”. Therefore, they see it as their  _ duty _ to force me to do absolutely nothing. Any opposition I gave was futile. So it seems I shall have to take up a hobby or two. _

_ Perhaps remodeling. I always did think this house was to austere to be considered comfortable. So many little rooms for stupid purposes. Who needs a room just to make social holo-calls, and another for consulting the contacts list for said next to it? Of course, I defer any decision to you, ‘Tage. It is, after all, in your name. _

_ I hope this message finds you well, regardless of your current struggles of the heart. I too have had my fair share of such pain, and would wish that it would be simple enough for me to wave a hand and banish it forever. But as I am no expert on such things (if my own foolish affair was not evidence enough, though it gave the greatest gift of all in the end: you) I cannot. I can only offer advice when I am able, and listen to your troubles with an open heart. But I cannot fix yours. Neither can I make his any different. _

_ Regardless of any scruples you have had with one another, I wish that all will turn right in the end. It may result as anything from a union to where you aren't even friends. But one thing must be done: you must face him, and mend the bridge that was built. Otherwise the suffering you felt in the beginning would multiply as time goes on. And I'm sure he is just as confused as you are. In any case, I hope for the best for you both, whatever you both decide to do. _

_ All my love, _

_ Nola _

_ P.S. I threw that droid in the scrap pile. I couldn’t stand the sight of it. To think that chunk of metal is an acceptable surrogate parental form? HA! Didn’t think you’d object. _

Hux read the message twice with a smile, happy as ever to hear from her. He normally would read these messages in his quarters, but he hadn’t the time this morning. He had a late night dealing with an alert from tech, saying that someone was meddling with the systems. They had apparently hacked their way into the encrypted high security files. However, the relief was that nothing was taken, and was only viewed. Hux ordered an investigation, but secretly hoped it was an intelligence officer who forgot their codes. 

Therefore, Hux had slept a little past his alarm. He had to hurry to make it to first shift in time. But here and now, waiting for the daily reports, he had a moment to himself.

A moment to read the letter from his mother. He grinned at the memory of their reunion, and the emotional bond that was not so much created as it was rebuilt.

The week spent with her was short, but well spent with closure. Closure he needed and closure she was willing to give full-heartedly. He had never felt so a peace in his own home before. With every word she uttered, Hux began to see why his father loved her at one time; she was intelligent, regardless of her stature of being a kitchen maid. Brendol may have worshipped her beauty, but she was no longer that innocent young woman he lusted for; she was a mature, sarcastic, middle aged woman who had more spark than anyone would expect from a small lady.

Hux loved her immediately.

But it seemed that he traded peace in one place in his life, for agony in another.

It was strange how when you avoided someone, they seemed to be  _ everywhere _ . On the bridge, at the gym, in the lounge, in the  _ halls.  _ Hux was starting to wonder that if he dodged Mitaka any longer, he may be admitted into the First Order Security Bureau.

He threw himself into the super weapons production as a means of avoidance, his desperation taken by high command as a sign that it was worth looking into. He couldn’t count how many times they had called it another death star, the  _ imbeciles _ . Only the Supreme Leader took him seriously, which perhaps was all that mattered. He had the  _ real _ power.

The door to his office chimed, and Hux’s stomach dropped as the name appeared on his datapad screen.

_ Feign sickness? No, he knows me well enough that he would see right through that. Just pretend not to be there? No I requested a report. Damn that supervisor! The slick probably was the one who started all the talk… _

Hux sighed and resisted the urge to rest his head on his desk.

_ The gimmick is up. This avoiding game has come to a close. _

He gave admittance to Lieutenant Mitaka.

The man looked pleasantly tanned and healthy, minus the darkness around his eyes. Those breathtaking eyes of such innocence at first glance, but bearing so much wisdom….

Mitaka bore apathy well as he gave Hux the report. His voice was steady, practiced, crisp, and such a melody. Hux still didn’t know what he was saying, however. Did it really matter? He always got a written report, even after an oral one.

_ No,  _ NO _ , not  _ now _. Focus.  _ FOCUS _. _

Mitaka’s face wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes and attention were on the pad in his hands. Hux found it odd that he should suddenly be jealous of a datapad.

_ Well if the object gets more attention than I do…and how  _ close _ he’s holding it…like he’s hiding shyly behind it… _

Hux almost wished Mitaka would turn to  _ him  _ for protection and security as he did that pad. Was he going mad? Being so infuriatingly obsessed with an object and the idea of taking its place?

_ Well, if I  _ were  _ that datapad, I could just reach out and touch- _ NO _. No not this time. _

Hux was broken from his reverie when he realized that Mitaka has stopped speaking mid-sentence. His countenance as he finally met Hux’s eyes was that of desperation. Hux was startled at the sight of it and moved a little towards him.

Mitaka didn’t shy away, to his utmost surprise.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but I can’t do this any longer,” he apologized with evident nervousness. “Forgive me, but please allow me to speak freely.”

Hux swallowed and wanted to grant him that honor forever. But that was too upfront, it seemed.

“Granted…” he said, allowing it for the time being instead. Mitaka wasted no time whatsoever.

“Sir, I know what you did for Petty-Officer Thanisson and his partner,” he proclaimed. “They kept me in confidence the entire time, and it wasn’t hard to realize through conjecture that Thanisson’s wife had been pleaded with.”

Hux was about to speak, but Mitaka had not finished. He seemed determined to get whatever was weighing in his mind out of it as soon as possible.

“I also know that you visited my family. I first heard it from the gossip of the Finalizer, and after that I couldn’t rest until I knew the truth. I confess I used some inappropriate means to do so, such as breaking into the central computers.”

_ Well, that explains the alert I had at 2 in the morning. But how was it that anyone would know or my dealings? There were no records connected to the  _ Finalizer _ as far as I know... not even jump points in the navi-computer of the shuttle I used. Is there a trail I don't know of? _

Hux couldn’t continue his private inquires as Mitaka kept going.

“I-I just wanted to humbly thank you. I don’t know how I can ever tell you how grateful I am, and consequently return the favor.”

Hux could feel his heart tearing and thrusting in his chest painfully.

Mitaka,  _ grateful _ for his action instead of being disgusted by them. Mitaka,  _ thanking  _ him. Mitaka, just  _ speaking _ to him. He was so close. He was  _ right there. _

_ Right there. _

“You owe me nothing, Mitaka,” Hux said, shaking his head. Mitaka became confused, and seemed to flounder before returning to a coherent thought process.

“But… please, at least tell me why you did it?” he requested. Hux’s astonishment was unfathomable to even himself. How was it not obvious? Mitaka for all his intelligence, for all his ability…

“You,” Hux revealed. “Always,  _ you, _ Mitaka.”

The reflection in Mitaka’s eyes wavered with added moisture, before they were put under control by a harsh blink. He appeared to be in either disbelief, or resignation.

“Surely you knew this?” Hux continued, fishing for which it was.

“I…when you dismissed me on Naboo, I believed you had…” Mitaka paused to swallow hard. “I thought you wanted to never know me because I…”

Mitaka looked down at his hands. It seemed he was unable to even say it. The question that had plagued Hux’s mind was now on the forefront of his brain, and danced on the edge of his tongue.

This was a silent moment. There was nothing to stop him from asking Mitaka officially what he had wanted.

_ Ask. Ask. ASK. _

_ “ _ Mitaka, I…” he fell silent again, and shook his head, changing his mind before the thought could settle in his mind.

It would be so easy; it would be so simple to have what he gave Thanisson and Rodinon. It was what Mitaka wanted. He wanted a relationship that  _ meant  _ something, last a lifetime, and would die with. This was a thing Hux had feared, because he believed it impossible. But it had become clear to Hux now more than ever, that if he was to spend time with Mitaka – no,  _ Phel  _ – forever, then he had nothing to be afraid of. There never was anything to fear, so long as Phel was by his side, taking on anything that may come their way. His past worries were  _ petty _ ,  _ worthless, embarrassing _ . Mitaka was his courage, his security.

It would be idealistic. He would take Phel back to Arkanis, and formally introduce him to his mother, as a good partner should. He would establish a leave for them to be joined with Mitaka’s sisters openly. He would find a way to be comfortable with a large family. He could do it. It would be hard, but to see Phel smile at him in the same way he did for those he loved was something he wished he could see.

_ It was all he ever wanted…but he didn’t deserve to get what he wanted. It’s what brought him to this state in the first place. _

“The only thing I would ever ask of you, Mitaka,” Hux sighed. “Is your forgiveness. I have taken it for granted in the past and I hope that…you will not object to my requesting it one last time?”

Mitaka’s eyes lifted to Hux’s aquamarine, his small perfect mouth opening in puzzlement.

_ Stars, he's sensitive. He may have felt every last thought I have been thinking! That…is how the Force works? _

He ultimately decided it didn’t matter. He would never accept Hux anyway.

Mitaka approached the desk and placed the datapad on the surface gingerly.

“I read that letter until I could repeat it from memory alone.”

He paused, struggling to find words.

“There was…I wanted to stay angry and hurt, I truly  _ did _ . But…I  _ couldn’t _ . I don’t know if that makes me a pushover but…”

Another pause, more consideration.

“I didn’t  _ truly _ forgive you until I found that it was  _ you _ who fixed and arranged everything. For both myself and my friends. How couldn’t I?”

Hux let his eyes fall down to the desk between them, and the datapad he was so envious of. The furniture and the minimalistic objects upon it were their only barrier. He could just reach out and touch him…hell, he could  _ leap over _ the desk and take that small mouth with his own. Or he could-

_ Control. Control. I must have control. _

“I am satisfied,” Hux said.

A lie. A lie they both knew the truth to. Mitaka didn’t show it though.

“I’m glad,” he replied.

Mitaka picked up the datapad and returned to the report. Hux let out his breath.

_ It’s over. I have met him once more. Now I know my strength… _

He stared at perfectly slicked hair, gentle slope of face, and the small beauty mark on his left cheek. And his small perfect mouth as he spoke. And the amber eyes in the low light. And the subtle chisel of his jaw that reminded him Mitaka was a man, despite the boyishly innocent curves.

_ And my weakness… _

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Hux said, realizing Mitaka had finished the report.

_ Formal. Aloof. Good. _

Mitaka saluted and turned to leave. His steps were steady and militaristic. Hux knew the Phel he had come to know was now out of reach, he had disappeared as soon as he had failed to request that Mitaka end his suffering. Phel was gone from his grasp.  _ Mitaka _ was now walking from him, and that’s all there ever would be; the lieutenant. The perfect, gentle, humble lieutenant.

Mitaka paused when he reached at the door to the office, hand hovering over the controls. Hux felt his breath catch.

Mitaka looked back and slowly allowed a one sided grin that Hux adored so much.

“Thank  _ you _ , General,” Phel said, before leaving as quickly as he came. Mitaka exited the office, footfalls and stance as pristine as ever an officer did appear on Hux’s  _ Finalizer. _

Hux collapsed into his chair, his knees failing him at last. His entire frame shook, a nauseating queasiness overtaking his stomach. He felt like he was going to vomit, but his chest screamed and cried in anguish. The echo rebounded with every shiver his body emitted, and appealed to the rattle in his ribcage. The frantic motions of his heart and lungs were reason enough to think he was upon death’s door. If not, then he surely was at the precipice of true torture.

Hux let out a wavering breath as he stared at the door that Mitaka just left through. He identified the ominously dangerous sensation that could just as easily madden a person as liberate him.

_ Hope… _


	20. Epilogue

Kylo’s black-brown eyes shot open. At once the small objects that were possessed by a greater power collided with the floor, clattering and rolling away from the epicenter as though afraid of their master. He felt a rumble of power; a strange humming that sang a sweet song of swaying influence that held no particular allegiance.

Those same eyes darted to the side, away from the altar that was the front and the center of his concentration, to the door. It had not changed in the passing of time here. Not that he expected it to; this was the one room he swore to never touch with his uncontrollable bursts of ability from emotional overload.

Not this sacred place.

But something beyond was beckoning from yonder this sanctuary. Something massive; something significant. It was deemed important enough to arouse curiosity, and even give reason enough to leave this place of prayer. He blessed the pedestal one last glance of respectful reverence it deserved, before slipping from the room, mask once more in place.

Underlings scrambled away in his wake, and their fear fed him. He could feel the burning symphony within him perk and spike. He could feel their anger at his presence which they called “Kylo Ren’s oppression,” especially that of his “fellow” technicians. They not only hated Kylo Ren for making their jobs that much harder when he destroyed their work, but also as Matt.

But what did it matter, really; neither Kylo Ren, nor Matt were there to make  _ friends _ .

Most believed he didn’t care at all; the rest claimed he only cared for himself. Both were incorrect. Kylo Ren cared. He cared more than everyone else.

The balance of Force emotions was important to be upheld; if people were content, their auras were the easiest to bear. If they were heightened by joy, or passion, the Force would have an osmosis effect upon his powers. But if they were discontented or agonizing, he could neither use nor ignore such feelings. They echoed too much into the past, a cruel reminder for him.

It was selfless of him that he worked so hard to keep the  _ Finalizer _ in balance. It was a mere coincidence that it should also benefit his needs.

And Hux…Hux was tipping the whole scale; Hux, who was as apathetic and efficient as a droid, disrupted the peace. Who knew the entire ship could be tainted by his singular want of the intimacy of another person?

_ Kylo Ren _ certainly didn’t. Upon his first meeting of the man, Hux was as austere internally as much as he was externally. That was another cause for their constant arguments; the conflict was what He  _ needed _ to keep His power. Certainly, it made it easier that Hux was full of passions and hatred, which were tapped into whenever He pressed certain points that were pressurized in his mind. And what joy, since there were so many…

That problem was eliminated almost instantly, but another soon came to play: the lieutenant, the sensitive.

_ Mitaka _ .

He was a nuisance to Kylo’s  power with his  _ positive _ attitude, which was rivaled only by his other emotion:  _ acceptance _ . While it was good to be an obedient servant, not everyone was meant to remain in that place of subservience. Kylo would soon break out of that place as soon as his apprenticeship was complete; Mitaka had no  _ desire _ to ever become more. Supposedly, he was hailed as a potential leader, but some jumbled up mess of emotions had changed that and was placed on record.  _ Records _ could stop someone from achieving a goal? If that was the case, then Kylo was surely stuck as a Padawan forever.

Regardless, Mitaka was also an easy obstacle to tackle. Throw him here or there every once in awhile, get the blood rushing to his head in fury, and test his Force capabilities while he still reaped the benefits that would come for only a  _ moment _ . That was the tricky part of Mitaka; he never allowed his passions or anger to get to the better of him under any circumstance.

_ Unless  _ Hux _ was involved. _

According to Hux’s memories, Mitaka was more than capable of being pushed over the edge in anger. His passions were buried deep within him, and neither that nor his fury could be unlocked by just anyone. Hux was one of the few who managed that perfectly. As a result, Hux became the key to making Mitaka a useful resource of power just as everyone else could.

Kylo Ren had done all in his power to persuade Hux to take advantage of the lieutenant. Subtlety was never his strong point, but Hux didn’t suspect him for an ulterior motive. Either Kylo was improving, or Hux was just too distraught to notice.

Matt was there to push Mitaka closer to Hux, and to mold his mind to accept the man as a partner. He told Mitaka all of Hux’s deeds in a very “Matt” sort of way, and managed to throw Mitaka for a loop with the information that was never supposed to reach him.

Kylo Ren was sure he had succeeded.

Until that plan failed  _ spectacularly. _

With Hux now in an eternal state of depression, longing and ridiculous hope, and Mitaka scrounging what little sanity he had left of the entire affair, Kylo knew something must change. In his plans, he did not foresee that he would fail. Kylo did not consider that he would have to deal with the repercussions at all. A lack of foresight was his downfall once again just as his master had warned. He was never gifted in the ways of visions; that was his Master’s wisdom. Kylo Ren had much to learn.

But until then, he had to fix this. And fix it soon.

The call was now a scream, shouting it's unfounded promises that did not need proof. He entered the center aisle of command, ignoring the two points of his misery to focus.

A white ice planet. The place of song and siren.

_ The host. _

Kylo Ren smiled behind his mask.  _ This _ was the solution. The Force of his lineage, just as much a curse as a blessing, had revealed the answer to his prayers.  If Hux could not be the catalyst of power for Kylo to feed from through his desired partner by passion, then Hux would be redeemed through anger.

This planet would be the host for Hux’s parasitic weapon and the central factor to their future. Mitaka would probably break in the process, but a broken man gave more than enough emotions for Kylo to benefit from.

_ It cannot fail…not this time... _


End file.
